The Imperfect One
by Goddess-Isis-112
Summary: [EDITED]She was a valiant warrior, and her skill in the art of combat more than made up for what she lacked in beauty. However, with her diminishing spirit, her only hope for survival lay not with her sword but with the one she refused to love.
1. Prologue: Elenmire

**The Imperfect One**  
By: Goddess-Isis-112

**Disclaimer:** Everything Middle Earth belongs to the creative genius, Tolkien. I am merely borrowing a few of his characters and places for a while, and no money is being made from this. All other unfamiliar characters and original plotlines belong to me. Now, with that out of the way…I hope you enjoy my story!

**Author's Note:** I haven't read all of Tolkien's books, this story probably will not be true to the cultures of Middle Earth, and I apologize to all purists out there, but in order for this story to work, a few things need to happen that may seem out of character.  
_  
01/10/06:_ I've decided to continue with this story because I owe it to all of you who've invested long hours to read it. However, because it's been so long since I've last connected with my main character, as well as with the general _Lord of the Rings_ story itself, it'll be a little difficult to get back into the flow of things. I am rereading and editing each chapter to fix any plot holes that I may have missed when I first started this story, and once that step is complete, I will finally upload a new chapter that starts where I last left off: at the beginning of _the Two Towers_. My writing style has changed somewhat in my long absence, so I can only hope that the later chapters will match well with what I had written before my long hiatus. Once again, I give you one of my many apologies for putting this story on hold for an incredibly long amount of time, and I can only hope that there are still those of you who will stick with this story until the very end.

**Prologue: Elenmírë**

She was not beautiful, not by many standards. Her dark hair was rather dry, bushy and lined with split ends. Her nose was too flat to be flattering and her overall figure was a bit too thick. Her only two appealing physical features were her grey eyes and her perfectly shaped red lips. They almost made up for her lack of overall appeal…almost, but not quite. It was rather unusual to see such a physically imperfect she-elf, and though Elenmírë was usually kind (she did have quite a temper when teased, however) and fairly courageous, her strengths were overlooked by many with one glance.

Her home was in Rivendell where she was orphaned nearly two thousands years ago at the very young age of fifty years. Her father, a Ranger and a Mortal Man, from whom she acquired her less than attractive looks, died in a skirmish with a gigantic spider in the realm of Mirkwood, and her mother, from whom she received her wondrous grey eyes and lips, met a similar fate when a group of orcs captured her as she wandered around the edges of the city limits, taking her far away before help could reach her and was never to be heard from again. Lord Elrond took the young Elenmírë under his wing for her mother, Aldarial, was his pupil in the art of healing before she was seized by orcs, and the Lord of Rivendell thought it only right to take up his pupil's daughter into the same education. Elenmírë, however, had slightly different plans.

Elenmírë was drawn to the art of war and weaponry and took training under Elrond's twins, Elrohir and Elladan. Though her love was lured to the bow and arrow and especially to the Elven blade, it took her half a century to get through basic training for she was neither as graceful nor as coordinated as the other Elves, but once she had the basics down, she was a swift learner, and after a century of grueling instruction, she had advanced to second in command to Elrohir and Elladan. Although this title gained respect from those around her, she was still looked upon as less feminine and even less attractive, for her comrades in war now saw her as no more than as one of their own, not as one to fall in love with. In the depths of her heart, she wanted nothing more than for someone to look beyond her rough exterior, but growing up next to the Evenstar and watching the reactions to her, Elenmírë was under nothing short of torment.

Arwen was beautiful, graceful, loved by all, and almost everything that Elenmírë wished to be, and she envied her, knowing that it would take a miracle for one to look upon her the way everyone did Arwen. Arwen's demeanor never lacked amiability, and she did see Arwen as a sister, a sister that she simultaneously admired and resented. Her feelings were always at battle when she gazed upon the Evenstar for Arwen was the loving confidante and best friend, but at the same time, she also reminded Elenmírë of what she would never become.

Her low self-esteem was eating away at her, but when she took out her aggression on traveling bands of orcs, her Elven glow would sustain her a while longer for she was in her element when in combat. But she was slowly fading, and none knew exactly what to do, not knowing that the only things she longed for were the only three things no one, besides her surrogate family, seemed to want to give her: acceptance, friendship, and most importantly, love…not the paternal or familial sort of love that she found with Lord Elrond, Elrohir, Elladan and Arwen, but true love that songs had been sung about many millennia before she was born.

Bit by bit, she was losing hope, and yet she prayed to the Valar out of desperation for her one wish to come true: to find the unconditional love that she so frantically longed for. Yet, as fate would have it, her prayers did not go unheard to deaf ears. There was something in store for the valiant Imperfect One; that much the Valar knew, for they had seen it in the themes of the Great Music, and they waited, for the one to save her would do so, but only in the time when the fate of Middle Earth hung the balance of a great Fellowship…

And so began her journey…


	2. Chapter One: An Informative Breakfast

**Disclaimer:** Everything Middle Earth belongs to the wonderful creative genius, Tolkien. No money is being made.

**Author's Note:** For the first part, I'm going mostly on the movie instead of the book because it is much more convenient for me to carry on my story that way. However, when the story nears the 2nd and 3rd books, I will revert back to the books for information and such. Well this chapter starts off in Rivendell after Frodo Baggins recovers from his injury from being stabbed by the Ringwraiths. Gandalf is back from Orthanc, and everyone knows that Saruman is a traitor…

_01/10/06:_ At this point, I'll mostly reference the films because I honestly haven't the time to reread the books (though I am trying to squeeze it into my schedule when I can). My goal now is to complete this story instead of having every single thing completely accurate. I want to finish at least one story under my name, and since this was my first story, it's only right that it should be completed first. Anyway, there are a few changes scattered throughout this chapter, but nothing completely major.

**The Imperfect One**  
By: Goddess-Isis-112

**Chapter One: An Informative Breakfast**

Elenmírë leapt out of bed at the morning's first rays of sunlight and stretched as she walked over to her balcony which overlooked the lustrous valley of Rivendell. Annaril, the only handmaiden she ever really trusted, drew her bath and called to her. "Arwenamin, your bath is ready." Elenmírë turned at the sound of her voice and smiled.

"How many times must I tell you, Annaril," she scolded softly as she stepped into her bath, "I am anything but a Lady. I fear you must be the only one in all of Rivendell who still insists on giving me such a title."

"But you are a Lady after all," Annaril commented as she lay Elenmírë's usual tunic and leggings aside on her bed. "Just because you refuse to be pampered and attired in dresses does not give anyone the right to deprive you of your proper title. Besides, you are just as part of the line of Lord Elrond as Arwen or the twins."

"I am naught but a warrior to everyone," Elenmírë sighed. "I think they all forget that a She-Elf lies underneath all this armor. Not that it is hard for them to do for I am as far away from the idea of beauty as anyone could possibly be." She frowned and splashed water around with her hands.

"Ah, hush your tongue, My Lady," the handmaiden snapped. "Here is a piece of advice for you. Appearances are not as important as you deem them to be. Worry not. You do have special qualities, Lady Elenmírë. To realize what they are, you must look past all superficialities."

"Special qualities or not, that does not change how others perceive me," Elenmírë replied stubbornly before completely immersing herself in the water.

"Always the immovable one," Annaril muttered in defeat, shaking her head. "I know it is almost futile to ask, but do you want me to-"

"No, thank you, Annaril," Elenmírë said automatically as she broke through the surface of the water. "I can braid my own hair." The handmaiden gave her a strained, somewhat sad smile as she walked out of the room, and Elenmírë climbed out of her bath and proceeded to dress.

She moved across the room to start her daily ritual of self-evaluation and stared at her mirror, her eyes critically looking over her body clad in a warrior's fashion. Her arms were too muscular, her legs too bulky for any She-Elf, and she angrily pinched the bit of bulge she hid right under her belt. It never really occurred to her that that bit of 'bulge' was actually a well-toned abdomen she acquired from her hard years of training, but all the same, it contrasted sharply with the soft, gentle curves she envied in other She-Elves. However, the one curve she had almost too much of was her bottom, which she attributed to her human half as no other Elf seemed to have a curvier bottom than she, but her bust was small which did not proportion her body at all. _'A flat chest and a frumpy bottom,'_ she thought gloomily. _'It isn't any wonder why no one has glanced my way.'_

The eyes of her reflection met hers as she started to plait her unruly black hair into a long braid, noting how dim her eyes now seemed. Her face appeared worn, tired, as if she had been through a long battle, causing even more worry lines to etch her brow as she studied herself. She had grown accustomed to her face, as unusual as it looked. It took her a few hundred years to finally accept that her nose wasn't ever going to be perfect; her cheekbones were never going to be high or so defined. Her olive skin was never going to be as pale as porcelain as Arwen's, butElenmírë did allow herself just one allowance: her face did have character. She smiled softly at her reflection, willing for the brightness that had once belonged to her eyes to return, but there was naught but a flicker.

Finally, she tore herself away from her mirror and strapped her quiver of arrows to her back, her sword to her waist, and snatched her bow in her left hand before she left for the dining hall.

"Elenmírë!" Elrohir greeted her as they arrived at the doors of the dining hall at the same time.

"Good morning, Elrohir," she replied with a smile, and together, they entered and sat by Lord Elrond, who in turn welcomed Elrohir with a firm handshake and Elenmírë with a kiss on her cheek. He showed her nothing less than fatherly affection, for which she was grateful, for he was one of the few who treated her not only with the respect for a warrior but with the respect for a Lady of high class.

"How do you fare this morning, father?" she asked as they all settled down into their seats while servants fervently placed plates of food in front of them.

"Ah, I wish I could say I had no worries, my dear," he sighed heavily before chewing on an orange slice. He swallowed and sat in thoughtful silence before speaking again. "The hobbits are incredibly cheerful, which is quite refreshing in this serious time, but I cannot say the same for the others. The Prince of Mirkwood also has not yet arrived, and I am rather worried as to what could have happened to cause such a delay. All the representatives should have been here by now."

"I have yet to meet the Prince of Mirkwood," Elenmírë stated absent-mindedly.

"That you will, my dear," Elrond smiled, patting her hand, before his face turned serious once more. "I only hope that he has not encountered any trouble on the road to Rivendell." He lowered his voice even further so that only Elrohir and Elenmírë could hear him. "I must ask the two of you to find Elladan and stay close to the outskirts of the city after breakfast, and look for signs of any possible danger. Prince Legolas' delay troubles me."

"We should have the Council soon," Elrohir commented just as softly. "The Ring's presence in Rivendell is a great danger to all its inhabitants. We must discuss what to do with it as soon as we can."

"We cannot start the Council without the Mirkwood representative," Elenmírë said, startled. "Not only will it be an insult to Mirkwood, it would not be fair to Prince Legolas to miss anything important that might be discussed." She paused and looked at Elrond. "Are you absolutely sure that no one will mind my being at the Council father?"

"You are second in command after all," Elrond answered. "I trust your judgment in this matter as much as I do with my own sons. You are a warrior, my dear, and you have proven time and again with your trusty sword that you care more for the protection of those around you than you do for own well-being." He clasped her hand. "I feel that your input in this matter will be an asset, not a hindrance." She smiled at his confidence in her, and he squeezed her hand in reassurance. "Now, you two should eat. You have a long day ahead of you."

They nodded in response, and after they had had their fill, they bid farewell to their father and proceeded to carry out his orders.

* * *

TBC...


	3. Chapter Two: An Encounter with A Prince ...

**Disclaimer:** Everything Middle Earth belongs to Tolkien. No money is being made.

_01/10/06:_ Well...this is one chapter people either loved or hated, and in all honesty after rereading it again...I can't help but cringe, haha. What the hell was I thinking? Anyway, I added a few things here and there just to buildElenmírë's character a bit, but this really is an awkward chapter, isn't it? Hahaha.

**The Imperfect One**  
By: Goddess-Isis-112

**Chapter Two: An Encounter with A Prince and A Mary Sue**

"Those hobbits are rather fascinating creatures," Elenmírë commented to Elrohir and Elladan as their horses trotted along the borders of Rivendell. For the past ten hours, they hadawaited the arrival of Prince Legolas but had heard and seen nothing of the Prince or of any danger that might be lurking. Their horses neighed quietly, just as bored as their riders.

"Yes, they are," Elladan agreed, the corners of his mouth turning up into a smirk. The hobbits had become a lively bunch ever since Frodo Baggins of the Shire had finally awoken from unconsciousness. The banquet that they had held the night of his recovery was one full of laughter and merriment, complete with wonderful food and song.

"Merry and Pippin have grown very fond of you, dear sister," Elrohir said thoughtfully. "They never left your side the whole night of the banquet."

"It's rather unusual," she laughed, "for it was the first time in a long time that anything male had showered me with such attention as they had." She shook her head, still in disbelief.

"They are truly smart, then," Elladan said sincerely, reaching over to pat her hands. She blushed furiously, hiding her face within her hands if attempting to stop the color from flooding her face, for it was something she rarely did.

"Thank you," she answered modestly, "but I fear it is quite pathetic that the only creatures to find me attractive are Halflings." They chuckled lightly, but the sound of hooves brought silence to their lips at once.

"Shh," Elrohir shushed, squinting through the trees into the distance. "There is a company riding in our direction." Instinctively, Elenmírë reached for the hilt of her blade while the twins were ready with bow and arrow. Minutes had passed when the group of riders suddenly came into clear view, and they saw that it was the company of Elves.

Elenmírë's mouth fell open for a few seconds, wondering if her eyes were truly deceiving her for there, leading the company to them, was the most amazing looking Elf that she had ever laid her eyes upon. _'Oh merciful Elbereth, but he is beautiful!'_ she sighed silently. His head was held up regally as his horse trotted closer and closer, and she could see the oceanic wonderland of his eyes. His long blond hair, half of which was held back by a braid, fell softly over his shoulders, the wind gently dancing through its silky strands. As he drew nearer, his face became more distinct, chiseled to perfection by a steady hand. She slowly let out her breath, never realizing that she had been holding it, willing for her pounding heart to lapse back to a normal pace.

She forced her eyes away from him, glancing over the rest of his company, and was distressed to see a young human girl riding next to him. She was, Elenmírë noticed with a sinking feeling, almost so physically perfect that it nearly made her stomach rebel with sickness. The young girl could not have been more than eighteen years of age, and she was dressed in unusual attire. Her leggings seemed to be made of rough, dark blue material that clung to her legs like a second skin, and her shirt was flimsy, frilly, and…revealing. It almost looked as though her bust was about to break free at any given moment.

Elenmírë opened her mouth to welcome the company with sharp, sarcastic words the way she had welcomed the other representatives before (much to Elladan and Elrohir's delight), but at that moment, their horses stopped in their tracks, and the Elf lifted his eyes to hers, erasing all language from her mind. He quietly studied her, a look of recognition passing across his face, but then he turned to look at the twins, and bewilderment troubled his countenance when he stared at their raised weapons.

Elrohir glanced at Elenmírë, waiting for her quick tongue to demand who the strangers were, for it was what she did to every one of the other guests, and he thought that this case would be no different. Yet, she said not one word, appearing dazed and confused. Of course, she wouldn't know who the Elf was as the twins did, for she never did like roaming outside the city limits of Rivendell due to her parents' past, but he was rather stunned to see her so silent.

"Elrohir, Elladan, is this how you welcome an old friend?" the Elf asked, looking from one to the other. They both eased themselves of their weapons, seeing at how frozen their sister suddenly was, before they jumped off their horses in greeting.

"Welcome, Legolas!" Elladan called out, reaching out to clasp his friend's hand. Legolas jumped off his horse with just has much grace, and grinned widely.

"Thank you!" he laughed. "I was not expecting to see both of you poised and ready to shoot me down the way you were! I thought that you two were under enchantments that I dared not make a move." They all shared a laugh, and Elrohir gestured to Elenmírë.

"We are sorry, dear friend," he apologized, shooting a look of curiosity to his sister who remained on her horse. "We thought that our little sister, Elenmírë, was going to address you with hardened words the way she always had when greeting strangers before, but it seems that today she either has no desire to keep us entertained any longer or her tongue has disappeared." Elenmírë scowled, a deep crimson now spreading from her cheeks down to her neck, but from embarrassment or from anger, no one could tell. She refused to greet Legolas on foot and straightened up indignantly.

"My tongue works very well, thank you," she snapped, her eyes flashing over at Legolas and his company, noting that the girl who had ridden beside the Prince now stood beside him.

"Elenmírë, it is wonderful to finally meet you after all I have heard about you from Elladan and Elrohir," Legolas called up to her, his voice sending shivers down her arms, and she hated herself for her reaction to him. _'What in the world is going on with me?'_ she contemplated inwardly. _'He is but another Elf!'_ She closed her eyes for a second and bowed her head in reverence.

"The pleasure is mine," she heard herself say, not knowing how she managed to find control over her voice. "We have been awaiting your arrival for some time now."

"I apologize," he answered, looking back to the twins. "We were nearly out of Mirkwood, when Mary Sue," he nodded his head in the girl's direction, "appeared out of a blaze of white light in the middle of a grove of trees! It nearly scared my horses, but after we talked, it seems she is from another world, and we agreed to take her here to Rivendell, so that she may find her way back home."

"Ah, so that is the cause of your delay," Elrohir concluded with his eyebrows raised.

"Part of it, actually," Legolas replied. "A band of orcs tried to attack us, but we survived. Mary Sue even wielded one of my blades with expertise, much to our surprise."Elenmírë felt a rush of jealousy fly over her at the pride she detected in his voice, but she remained silent and cool before any of her sarcasm could fly from her lips.

"Impressive," Elladan commented. "I doubt, however, that any other female could brandish a weapon like our sister." He shot Elenmírë a smile, and she returned one of her own for his compliment.

"Thank you," she replied simply, not knowing what else to say. Although her mind was still reeling from the first eye contact she had held with the Prince, her vocabulary was slowly coming back to her.

She watched as Legolas introduced the girl to Elladan and Elrohir, but what brought Elenmírë's mind crashing back to reality was the girl's reaction when hearing that Elenmírë was the twins' sister. She stared at Elenmírë with questioning, disbelieving eyes that grew more critical as she looked over Elenmírë's tunic, leggings, and finally her face.Elenmírë's feigned neutrality exploded as unchecked rage raced through her veins for she knew that look that Mary Sue bore; she had seen it far too many times in all her fifty and two thousand years of her life. She knew she wasn't as attractive as other Elves, but to see that knowledge on the human girl's face was more than she could finally take, especially now.

She knew it was foolish to deny that her heart called for Legolas; she knew it the moment she laid her eyes on him, but to see him standing so close to one so excruciatingly beautiful, one who looked at her with repulsion, was the final straw. Fate seemed to be at its cruelest at that moment and suddenly angry words rushed out of her mouth, words that she had longed to say to all those who had worn the same look of disgust on their faces in her presence. Two thousand years of pent up aggression was finally coming out, and Mary Sue was going to get the worst of it at this sudden emotional catharsis.

"Why do you stare so rudely, human!" Elenmírë spat angrily, her voice dripping with animosity, and her brothers gaped at her, too shocked to move. Elenmírë had never shown this side of herself. Ever. Her shoulders were shaking with fury, and the look on her face was one that could freeze water.

"I…j-just…it's j-just t-that you don't look anything like your brothers," the girl stuttered, her eyes wide with fright, and she grabbed a hold of Legolas' arm for support. Again, jealousy flared throughout Elenmírë's body, fueling the building anger that she had been feeling for her entire life. Unable to control the torrential floods of pain at the reminder of her inability to be identified with those she wanted so desperately to be like,Elenmírë narrowed her eyes, glaring hatefully at the girl who cowered under her gaze. For reasons she knew not, there was something about this beautiful girl whose offending presence sparked a desire within Elenmírë to take all her lifelong frustrations out on her. One thing was for certain: she wanted to do what she could to stop the girl from staring at her with that gaze she had grown to despise.

"You're lying to me," Elenmírë said flatly, her voice surprisingly calm. Inside she was a whirlwind of emotions, torn between pulling the girl away from Legolas and finally giving in to the breaking of her already damaged heart. "Tell me the truth," she demanded even more icily.

"I-I…I thought you were, I mean to say, I mis-mistook you for a male…" Mary Sue barely whispered it, but the words echoed through Elenmírë's mind, gaining volume to the point where they rung in her ears. She glared at her brothers as they stifled their chuckles, and her eyes roamed over to Legolas, waiting for laughter to escape his lips, but it did not. In fact, he shot her a look of apology, but she looked away, refusing to be softened by his stare. She glared at Mary Sue, who clutched at his arm for dear life. "I so didn't mean to offend you, but-" Mary Sue continued.

"But you did, you impertinent half-wit," Elenmírë cut in, raising her voice. "Do you know who I am, you insolent imbecile? Not only am I second in command to the Guard of Rivendell but also a Lady of the Ruling House of this city, and you dare to insult me by gawking at me like I am some sort of exhibit? I am certainly no male, but I would rather be one than to be an idiotic, cowardly human girl you undoubtedly are, grasping onto the arm of an Elf in such as manner." She took a deep breath, but she was far from finished. Before anyone could get a word in, she started again, her anger stabbing more into Mary Sue's ego. "Whether intended or not, you have spoken words of offense, you disrespectful git, and you will understand that I will not take that sort of demeanor from the likes of a spineless girl like you." Her horse neighed with agreement and stamped its hoof into the ground, as if giving applause.

"I-I'm n-not spineless!" Mary Sue cried, tears filling her eyes, giving Elenmírë an empty satisfaction that her words cut, but it did not ease the self-loathing that was once again building inside of her. "I-I helped L-Legolas fight orcs!"

Elenmírë raised an eyebrow. "And how many did the little girl kill?" she mocked before she could help herself.

Mary Sue raised her head proudly as if to challenge her. "I killed five orcs by myself! With a sword, too!" Elenmírë roared with laughter, though she could tell how hollow and false it sounded even to her own ears. But Mary Sue, unable to tell the difference, wilted against Legolas' side, her self-esteem deflating with each laugh from the She-Elf.

"Five!" Elenmírë sputtered. "Only five! How pathetic, human girl!"

"My name is Mary Sue," she said, choking back a sob into Legolas' shoulder, "not human girl!"

"Elenmírë, that's enough!" Elrohir finally stated, his eyes glaring. "Can't you see you've done enough damage as it is?"

"Dear brother, I haven't done enough," she replied, her eyes narrowed into slits, not in anger, but to prevent the building drops of tears from falling from her eyes. "For two thousand years, I've had to deal with people like that, and for two thousand years I've had to keep everything inside. No longer, dear brother. I've had enough of critical glances, enough of disgusted looks." She gestured to her face. "Look at me, Elrohir! The light is vanishing from my eyes, and my heart is almost too heavy for me to tolerate any longer. And you know the reasons why." She closed her eyes and breathed softly, calming herself down, before lifting her head and raising her hand over them. "I've had enough. Namaarië," she spat over her shoulder before her horse turned and raced through the trees.

Legolas watched the strange She-Elf ride away toward the city, her horse quickly fading in between the foliage. She had been right about one thing: the glow that normally surrounded an Elf was hardly there around her, and her eyes were dull, her face aged and troubled. He could not deny that she was not as appealing as Mary Sue who lay whimpering in his arms, but Elenmírë's pain was so tangible he could feel it with the tips of his fingers.

"Legolas, she was horrible, just horrible!" Mary Sue sobbed, her violet eyes looking up at him. "It's like soo obvious why people look at her the way they do! She didn't need to ask me; she already knew the answer! Ugh! She just wanted to take her anger out on me! She's just a bitter, cynical, jealous old Elf! I can't believe she said all that about me! I'm not cowardly, right Legolas?" He simply shushed her and whispered words of comfort in Elvish as they all started to walk toward Rivendell. Yes, Elenmírë alarmed him when she ranted her angry words, but he could feel that there was something behind it all, and he intended to find out...

* * *

TBC... 


	4. Chapter Three: A Polished Jewel

**Disclaimer:** Tolkien owns everything about Middle Earth. No money is being made. 

**Author's Notes:** YAY! Thanks so much for the kind reviews that I've received so far! It really encourages me to continue with this story! Okay, I did get inquiries concerning Elenmírë's looks, and well, to clarify what I meant, I looked at Mandy Moore's character in "A Walk To Remember" and also Sandra Bullock's character in "Miss Congeniality." Those two characters weren't exactly ugly, but many of the people around them didn't consider them to be highly beautiful (pre-makeovers, that is), and they weren't paid much attention to; to others, they seemed to just take up space. It is somewhat the same with Elenmírë; she's **not** ugly, but she _thinks _she is because of all the other She-Elves that she is surrounded by, particularly her sister Arwen, who is considered to be one of the most beautiful Elves in all of Middle Earth. Elenmírë is a particularly plain-looking Elf when compared to other She-Elves, but she has the potential to really shine in her own way, just like the two characters from "A Walk to Remember" and "Miss Congeniality"…I can't say anymore, or else I'll give away what might happen in this story, so I hope that clarifies that issue for everyone!

Concerning her name, I just grabbed two words (elen and mírë) out of the index in the back of The Silmarillion and squashed them together LOL. Elen means 'star' and mírë (Quenya) means 'jewel.' So I figured, 'Hey, it looks pretty cool when you put them together' so that's how her name came to be! LOL. Okay, sorry for that terribly long A/N! On to the story!

_01/16/06:_ Gosh, I loved writing long author's notes, didn't I?

**The Imperfect One**  
By: Goddess-Isis-112

**Chapter Three: A Polished Jewel**

Elenmírë paced back and forth across the floor of her room, trying to rid herself of the anger that had consumed her that afternoon. She knew that she would have to face Mary Sue and Legolas again at the banquet that Lord Elrond was holding that very night, but she would try her damned best to stay away from them both. If Mary Sue challenged her again, she knew that in her rage, she would hurt her, maybe even kill her. And Legolas…Elenmírë shook her head. Legolas was a danger to her. An army of orcs could not render her with fear, but Legolas' presence did, for she was not in control of her emotions around him, and that was something she was not used to nor was it something she liked at all.

"I knew I'd find you here." Elenmírë looked up to her doorway where Elladan stood watching her. He was leaning against the wall, his arms crossed over his chest. Elenmírë bowed her head in shame and turned away, walking to her balcony.

"It's not fair, Elladan," she whispered softly, gazing over the railing to the last rays of light as the sun dipped just below the horizon. "I know I was awful this afternoon, but one can only take so much after a long time." She heard him walk softly across the room to join her at the balcony and remained silent, willing for her to continue. "It just isn't right. The whole world expects us to be the fairest creatures, the most beautiful, but I feel as if fate had robbed me, especially when I saw that girl." She spat the word 'girl' as if it were poison. "I know I sound bitter, but I cannot help it." She looked at her brother with tears in her eyes. "When Elrohir told me that I had said enough to her, a thought flashed through my mind. Why hasn't anyone ever stood up for me like that, or ever yelled at someone else for insulting me? All these long years, I have endured those hideous stares, and not even one person stood by me to defend me from their horrible glances."

Elladan bit his lip and hung his head in humiliation. When he and Elrohir grew up with Elenmírë, they were young and careless and even joined some of the teasing that their mates had started about Elenmírë's plain looks. He never knew the extent of the damage that they had started long ago, and now the backlash was even worse than he expected. He never thought she would actually believe their taunts, much less listen to them, but years of hearing the same jokes, the same comments must have made her deem them to be true.

"Oh, Mírë, I'm so sorry," he apologized, opening his arms to her, and she fell into them, sobbing. "Elrohir and I never knew how much we hurt you. Why did you not tell us before?"

"I did not want to appear weak," she cried, her voice muffled as she buried her face into her hands. "My courage as a warrior was the only thing I had left to gain respect." She lifted her tear-streaked face to him. "Look at me! As an Elf, I'm supposed to be beautiful, not so ugly or plain-looking!" Elladan placed his hands on her shoulders and slightly shook her.

"Elenmírë, listen to yourself!" he bellowed, and her eyes grew wide. Elladan never spoke to her so furiously before. "You must stop this…this obsessing over appearances! You are an amazing person, and it hurts those who care about you to see you slowly killing yourself. You are amazing," he repeated, lowering his voice, "and I wish I had the power to convince you that much." She grew still in his arms, and her sniffling slowly stopped.

"Thank you, Elladan," she whimpered in a quiet voice. "It is just so hard, and I am so tired…"

"Shh," he soothed. "Just remember that you needn't go through your pain alone. I am here if ever you need to talk." She nodded and straightened up, offering him a weak smile. "Now, Mírë, will you get ready for the banquet tonight?" She nodded again, too emotionally drained to speak. He locked eyes with her. "For once, my dear sister, please let Annaril pamper you, just for tonight. It might be of some help to let someone else take care of you." He smiled feebly as he walked toward the door, but he paused and turned to look at her. "I will be here to escort you down to the dining hall when you are ready." With that he left, and Annaril arrived a few minutes later, a wide grin spread across her face.

"Elladan gave me orders, arwenamin, and I must keep to them for I do not wish to put him in a foul disposition," she said brightly as she led Elenmírë away to the bath. Elenmírë kept silent the entire time as Annaril washed her hair with the finest scented oils, but she gave a startled yelp upon seeing a blade in Annaril's hand when she was through.

"Wh-what-" she stammered.

"I mean not to alarm you, arwenamin," Annaril pacified in a calming voice, "but I thought that I ought to cut a bit of your hair-"

"What for!" Elenmírë roared. Annaril scowled and proceeded to comb Elenmírë's long tresses.

"Well, first of all, my Lady, the ends of your hair are rather damaged due to your hasty job of braiding it improperly for all these years, and you are constantly out and about looking for danger that I am rather shocked to see that your hair is not as mutilated as I thought it to be," she replied matter-of-factly. "Besides, I am under orders to make sure that you look absolutely splendid, and the style I wish to try on your hair would look unusual if I did not cut off those broken ends and-"

"Oh, go on with it," Elenmírë sighed exasperatedly. "I am naught but a lost cause, and I believe it to be a waste of time, I tell you, to try to make me pretty. You will certainly fail, and I assure you, Elladan probably won't know the difference anyway."

Annaril rolled her eyes before snipping Elenmírë's hair. "There you go again, with all that nonsense," she muttered. "You shall look marvelous tonight…" Her voice trailed off, and she gave her own sigh. "It's not that you are not attractive, dear, it is just you never seem to want to try to be." She paused and cupped her fingers around Elenmírë's chin, gently turning her face to look at her. She smiled down upon her with motherly affection. "You do have potential, Elenmírë. You mustn't think of yourself as a lost cause. The only way others will ever see how beautiful you are is if you realize it first." Elenmírë was touched to see such sincerity on her face and in her words, and she nodded, giving her a small grin.

"Fine, you win, but only for tonight," Elenmírë said with a note of resignation. "My normal, cynical self will be back tomorrow, mind you, but tonight she is on a holiday."

"Splendid!" Annaril squealed like a young Elf, and continued to snip and style Elenmírë's hair, and Elenmírë did have to admit, it did feel wonderful to let someone fuss over her, to care about her in such a way. As the preparation wore on, excitement actually grew inside her heart, and she even enjoyed trying on the many unworn dresses that had been collecting inside her closet over the many years. Annaril finally decided on a deep green gown which complimented her olive skin, and the silver hem and lining brought out her grey eyes. Annaril refused to allow Elenmírë even one glance into the mirror before she was through, wanting to build a moment of suspense.

"Annaril, may I please look now?" Elenmírë whined, but Annaril shook her head, giving her hair a few more twists and even braided a silver ribbon into her styled concoction. After a few more swipes of the brush, Annaril placed Elenmírë's royal crown, a ringlet of silver, upon her brow and finally nodded.

"There, you are ready, Lady Elenmírë," she said formally, her face flushed with excitement.

Slowly, Elenmírë approached the mirror, pausing just a few steps away from it, scared to see her reflection, and a bit nervous that, after all Annaril's preparing, she would still remain as ugly as she thought she was. Closing her eyes, she crossed the remaining space between herself and the mirror, trying to calm her staggered breathing. Then she looked.

"But that is not me," she gasped, gawking at the reflection, afraid that if she moved, it would disappear like a cloud of illusion.

"But it is, arwenamin," Annaril grinned. "Now you see what your family and I have seen all along. Those who never saw it were fools," and she added as her grin grew wider, "including yourself."

Elenmírë's eyes were wide as she hungrily observed herself in the mirror. It seemed her face was not her own, but it was. There was the same flat nose, the undefined cheekbones, but the style of her hair and especially her crown, brought attention to her grey Elven eyes, once dim, but now lit with just the tiniest flicker of light. The scoop neckline emphasized her shoulders, making them look delicate, and the sleeves of her gown smoothed the bulkiness the muscles of her arms. The small bulge of her belly was still there, but the cut of the dress cleverly hid it. She turned to the side, and saw that her bottom still protruded, but it did look much better in a dress than it did in those tight leggings. The dress did wonders to her imperfect body, but she shifted uncomfortably under its weight. However, she smiled widely, turning to Annaril and rushing over to give her a hug.

"You've done wonders, my friend!" she laughed, feeling tears of happiness threatening to spill over her cheeks. "I-I do not look as plain as I did before! It is quite a miracle that you have performed." Annaril shook her head modestly.

"No, my Lady," she answered softly. "I just merely polished a forgotten jewel." She gave Elenmírë another hug before leading her to the doorway. "Now, if I recall correctly, you have a young Lord awaiting your arrival." Elenmírë struggled from Annaril's grasp and grabbed her sheathed sword, strapping it loosely around her waist.

"I'm still a warrior, after all," she commented, watching Annaril's expression change from disbelief to exasperation. "All the other guards will have theirs! Why shouldn't I?"

"You cease to amaze me, arwenamin," Annaril sighed, shaking her head, a grin now stretching across her face. "No matter what I do, I shall never be able to shake the fighter out of you."

"Well, I am first and foremost a warrior," Elenmírë smirked, "even under all these yards of fabric, and I don't intend to let anyone forget that ever, including tonight!" The two links arms and laughed as they went to the door to meet Elladan who waited patiently outside.

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TBC.  



	5. Chapter Four: Dance With Me

**Disclaimer:** Tolkien owns everything concerning Middle Earth. No money is being made.

**Author's Note:** _01/16/06_ - ...I'm getting a huge laugh out of rereading each of these chapters because my writing style has definitely changed in the time I've spent away from writing fan fiction. The editing is taking longer than I expected, but I'm slowly plowing through, and hopefully I'll finally be able to get the second part of this story going. And I'm also cutting out all those annoyingly long auther's notes I'd always tacked on at the end of each chapter because all I ever really seemed to do was beg for reviews, haha. My bad.

* * *

**The Imperfect One**  
By: Goddess-Isis-112

**Chapter Four: Dance With Me**

Elladan gazed blankly down the empty corridor, not knowing how much time had passed. He had gotten ready for the banquet a long while ago, and he had been sitting outside of Elenmírë's room since then. His mind had been wandering almost the entire time, but when he heard laughter coming from Elenmírë's closed door, he stood up, stretched and walked over.

Before he could reach the doorway, it was thrust open, and as his sister was pushed outside, and the door shut behind her with a loud bang. "Have fun, arwenamin!" Annaril called out, her voice muffled, and the two were left alone in the hallway facing each other.

Elladan stared, his jaw dropping in disbelief. He knew that she had the potential to really be the Lady she was, but this was beyond his expectations. The dress hugged her body perfectly, slimming away the unusual proportions that were emphasized with her tunic and leggings, and part of her hair was swept back and away from her face with a silver ribbon in a complicated plait while the rest fell smoothly down her back. It was far from her usual tight braid that she had worn most of her life. Elladan let go of the breath he had no idea he was holding, and admired not just the physical differences, but the light that surrounded her, the light that had almost completely disappeared, but was now slightly reflecting off of her olive skin, not too strongly, but not as weak as it had been. Elenmírë shifted uncomfortably on her feet.

"I do not look at all like me," she commented, biting her lip, worrying over his expression. He had not made a move, and his face was still set in shock, and she knew not whether it was for good or for bad. "Elladan?" He shook his head, and he smiled widely, offering her his arm.

"You look absolutely stunning, Mírë," he whispered to her as they walked down the quiet hall. "Merry and Pippin will be head-ever-heels when they see you!" He chuckled as her cheeks flamed.

"Ah, just what I need," she laughed, "Infatuated little hobbits!" They burst into another fit of laughter, and his eyes caught the glimmer of her sheath at her waist.

"What, are you expecting a battle?" He gestured to her blade.

She straightened up indignantly. "It reminds the others of my rank," she said briskly. "I do not want them to forget that. Besides," she pointed at his own sword, "we are warriors after all. We should be alert at all times, just in case, and there is no way you will leave me behind if there is an emergency. Just because I now wear this heavy gown does not mean I cannot fight in it." They laughed and their giggles echoed through the empty hallways.

Elladan could not stop gazing down at the one he had always seen as his comrade, as his equal, for she had never looked so feminine before. And her entire countenance had a certain glow that she had not had since her early childhood. _'Why has she kept this side of herself hidden for such a long time?'_ his mind wondered idly. He studied her face, amazed at how familiar and different it seemed at the same time. It was the same Elenmírë, but…but…he could not place his finger on it.

Elenmírë kept her gaze fixed straight ahead, though she was well aware of Elladan's stare. _'Do I look that different?'_ she asked herself silently, but her thoughts ebbed away as they drew closer and closer to the hall, loud chatter drifting to reach them. Her arm tensed, and she clutched at him. He placed his other hand over hers to relax her.

"Why are you nervous?" he asked, curiosity burning in his eyes. "This is not your first banquet." They paused just outside the open doors, and she looked up fearfully at him.

"I-I just…I feel vulnerable in this," she confided, bringing her gaze to her dress. "With my tunic and leggings, I can blend in with all the other guards, but with this…" She sighed. "This is foolish, Elladan. They will certainly laugh, and I will not be able to hide." She looked up at him again, searching for reassuring words.

"Ah, arwenamin, they will not laugh, but they will wonder why you have kept this side of you so secret for so long," he said, and she started at his words. He had never, in all the many years that they had known each other, called her 'arwenamin,' and it troubled her to ever hear him say it when addressing her now. Was her regular, unpolished self unworthy of being called 'arwenamin?' "Come," he encouraged, gently pulling her toward the doors. "Let us make our entrance." She took a deep, labored breath and bit on her bottom lip as she nodded in acquiescence.

Elladan led her to the grand entrance, and they paused as they stepped inside, taking in the scene. A motley group of guests were gathered; Elves were everywhere of course, Dwarves were talking amongst themselves, Men were glancing around suspiciously, and the Hobbits were the center of attention, animatedly acting out their stories and drinking wine as if their glasses had endless bottoms. Elenmírë smiled softly when her eyes landed on Merry and Pippin, both of whom were red in the face from too much wine.

Elrohir noticed Elladan immediately when he entered, but he was surprised to see a timid She-Elf on his arm and wondered how long Elladan had kept this girl out of his knowledge. With his head held proudly, he strode over to his brother and gave a gentle bow to them both and offered his own arm to the young She-Elf.

"Welcome," he greeted formally, and when she stared at him in disbelief, he realized that she was familiar somehow…

"You do not recognize me, Elrohir?" she questioned in a hurt voice, a voice that he instantly knew.

"Elenmírë!" he hissed incredulously. "But you look so…female!" Her eyes narrowed and glared angrily, and he realized instantly just how insulting his words were. "I am sorry, sister. I must apologize for my quick tongue." She nodded slowly, but her eyes still held her pain. Without another word, he led them to the dais where the High Table was and where their father and the Evenstar sat. Using her peripheral vision, Elenmírë spotted Legolas and Mary Sue sitting side by side near the opposite end of the long table and immediately decided not to acknowledge them unless she had no other choice.

"Ah, Elladan, it is about time you showed up," Lord Elrond called out to them as they approached. He looked curiously at the Elf standing next to his son, but when she lifted her eyes to meet his, an indescribable joy shouted from his very heart. "Elenmírë!" He leaped out of his chair to embrace his foster daughter. He pulled away from her slightly to admire the new change that had come over her. "My daughter, it is an honor…" His voice trailed off for he was choked with too much emotion, but his meaning was clear in the happiness that covered his face. His elated cry turned the heads of the Elves in the hall and of those sitting at the Head Table, and they watched on in curiosity. The hobbits, who had heard Elenmírë's name, came rushing to the table to greet her, but Lord Elrond, too overcome with happiness, quickly called the attention of those sitting at the Head Table, much to Elenmírë's chagrin. "My honored guests," he began, beaming at all of them, "I'd like to introduce to you, my other daughter, Elenmírë." She stepped out from behind her father, cheeks flaming red, and clumsily curtseyed (it was the first time she had ever had to do so), keeping her eyes downcast to avoid any eye contact, especially from Legolas and Mary Sue.

"Elenmírë, it has been a while since I saw you last, but I must say, you are far more exquisite than I remembered," a deep masculine voice said, freezing her momentarily, and she frantically questioned herself as to how she could have possibly overlooked him. She knew that voice well for she had dreamed of him for years, desiring to be his only object of affection for the longest time, but that role was given to none other than her own sister, Arwen. She gulped and forced her eyes up to gaze into the face of Aragorn. His gentle grey eyes twinkled as he bestowed a smile upon her, which she weakly returned, taking note that Arwen was sitting right beside him.

"Many moons have indeed passed," she said in reply, but she quickly looked back down, afraid that if she stared much too long, her hidden feelings would reveal themselves on her face. She had tried to avoid seeing him at all costs, especially when she discovered his love affair with her sister many seasons before, for she did not want another reason to loathe her. These same emotions were now rekindled, but Lord Elrond took no heed of it for he led her to the opposite end of the table, eager to have her meet those summoned to Rivendell. She was grateful at once that her father was enthusiastic of her arrival, but remembered all too suddenly that she was leaving Aragorn behind merely to face the only other person who stirred the emotions in her heart. _'Why must I fall for those who are already unavailable?'_ she sighed inwardly, when they drew closer to Legolas and Mary Sue.

"Legolas, Mary Sue," Lord Elrond greeted kindly, "this is Elenmírë." She curtseyed, less clumsily than before, keeping her eyes downcast. She could feel Legolas' eyes on her, and her knees were threatening to buckle underneath her at any given moment…

"Oh, we've met her before," Mary Sue replied with disdain, not bothering to look up and waving her hand as if to dismiss her, and Elenmírë could not keep a growl from escaping her lips. Her hand was immediately drawn to the hilt of her sword, and she nearly unsheathed it, but her father was far quicker and placed his hand over hers to stop her motion. Elenmírë now glared openly at the girl, and when Mary Sue looked up, she did a double take, her jaw dropping. The She-Elf that had verbally attacked her in the woods ("She's a she-male, not a She-Elf!" she sneered to Legolas as they approached the city) was now a vision encompassed in immaculate white light that seemed to emit from her very soul, and her face, once so ordinary, was beautiful and terrifying to behold, for her eyes were fiery with anger, adding to her magnificence. Those who had gaped at the commotion were taken aback by the brilliance of Elenmírë's detestation for Mary Sue. It was their first time to see her Elven beauty shine through her rage, but those of the Guard of Rivendell immediately recognized that same fire of light, for that was how she appeared when in battle. Only anger for the Orcs or anything evil brought forth the light that sustained her, and her comrades whispered this to those who would listen. Mary Sue, on the other hand, was now petrified and could not take her eyes off of the She-Elf that she had dismissed as crude and ugly.

"Why do you speak in such a tone, Mary Sue?" Elrond asked evenly, his voice calm though his eyes betrayed the protective anger that had risen at the girl's nonchalant answer.

"I meant no offense, Lord Elrond, but this is the Elf that had insulted me in the woods," Mary Sue said defiantly, not knowing where she obtained the courage to stand to the Lord of Rivendell. "She called me impertinent and spineless and-"

"That is what you are," Elenmírë spat, the light around her growing and lighting the hall with the luminosity of a star. "You were the one to disrespect a Lady of Rivendell, and my insults were far more generous to you than you know, for if you had offended another of a Ruling House of any city, you would have been put into a dungeon and fed dung instead of sitting at a place of honor as you are right now." She held Mary Sue's violet eyes in a glare, silently challenging her to disagree, but the girl could not utter one word.

"Why did you not tell me this, Elenmírë?" Lord Elrond asked quietly. "What did she say to upset you so?"

"She called me a male, father," Elenmírë replied bluntly, "but she lied to me at first, trying to escape my wrath by making up a silly excuse at how she just thought I looked nothing like the twins. So I retaliated at her serious lack of judgment in her choice of words." A collective murmur ran through the crowd, reminding them that they had an audience. She looked over the sea of faces and recognized the looks of guilt among many. _'Ah,'_ she thought, her heart filling with sadness, _'so it is true that most of Rivendell thought the same as Mary Sue.'_

"Mary Sue was obviously mistaken, My Lord," Legolas spoke, rising to bow to them both, "and I will bear the responsibility of her actions for she is under my care after all." He straightened up and looked into Elenmírë's grey eyes, causing her heart to leap with delight despite the situation at hand. "I apologize on her behalf, Lady Elenmírë, and I assure you that she meant no harm."

"Thank you, Legolas," Elenmírë said softly, relishing the sound of her name on his lips, but something in her voice must have betrayed her for Lord Elrond now looked at her questioningly. "But please, tell your little friend to watch her words carefully for I will not be as lenient the next time around." She looked at the girl with distaste one last time before taking her father's arm and moving on to be introduced to another.

Legolas watched Elenmírë walk away, the light slowly fading once more to a slight mist around her figure, but he could not erase the image of her standing there as if a star itself had been inlaid in her body. He gazed after her, contemplating at how beautiful she could be if only she allowed herself let go of whatever it was that she was afraid of, but he knew there was much more to her than just looks, for looks were often deceiving, and frowning, he turned his gaze to Mary Sue, who now sat glaring up at him with her arms crossed.

"Why did you apologize?" she demanded as he took his seat again.

"Shh!" he hissed, his eyes darting over to Lord Elrond and Elenmírë, who were now speaking to Boromir of Gondor and the Dwarf, Gimli. They were just a few feet away, and if they had heard Mary Sue, they chose not to acknowledge it. "I already warned you once before that Elves have excellent hearing. I greatly advise you not to speak in such a manner to our hosts." She sighed heavily and pouted her lips as she slumped in her chair.

"I don't care," she whispered softly, her violet eyes filling with unshed tears. He felt his heart lurch at the sight, and he wanted to hold her, to comfort her, but…somehow the image just did not seem…right. Yes, dressed in Elven fashion, Mary Sue was beyond gorgeous, and many an Elf mistook her for one when they arrived in the hall together, but she just did not have that same glow, that same fire as Elenmírë.

"You must care," Legolas replied bluntly. "Elenmírë did have a point, I might add. If you had been as rude to someone else of a Ruling House, you would have ended up imprisoned in a dungeon." He chuckled, recalling Bilbo's first experience in Mirkwood. "You do remember Bilbo Baggins?" She nodded for they had met Bilbo and the Hobbits as soon as they had arrived in Rivendell. "Bilbo traveled to Mirkwood with Dwarves, but his friends were captured by my people and my father had them imprisoned (we did not feed them dung, of course) merely because they were wandering in our realm, and they were lost and starving, but he had thought that they were trying to attack our people. Until I had a chat with Bilbo today, I had thought the same." Her eyes grew wide with surprise. "So you see, you are rather fortunate." Mary Sue glanced over at Elenmírë who was now at her place at the table on the other end having a lively conversation with two of the hobbits, Merry and Pippin, and Gandalf the Grey and Elladan were watching on in amusement. For the first time in her life, Mary Sue felt a twinge of jealousy.

"I still don't know why everyone dotes on her," she murmured quietly, grabbing a slice of cheese and nibbling on it. "Yeah, she's all pretty or whatever right now, but, she'll go back to looking like a guy tomorrow with those ugly leggings she wore this afternoon."

"You sound jealous," Legolas smirked, quickly ducking away from her swatting hand.

"Me? Jealous?" Mary Sue rolled her eyes dramatically and swept her straight, jet black hair over her shoulder. "As if." Suddenly, as quickly as seconds pass by, her mood changed, and she leaned closer to Legolas, batting her long lashes at him, her eyes imploring for his attention. He gulped. "Why would I be jealous of her when I'm the lucky one, sitting here next to you?"

"You are blessed with the gift of sweet words, little one," he chuckled uncomfortably, slowly inching himself away from her. She took no notice, but scooted ever closer, and again, he felt claustrophobic, wanting to bolt away from her, but he did not want to cause a commotion. Coming to his rescue, musicians swiftly began to play their instruments and sing a lively tune.

"Oh, I do love to dance!" Mary Sue hinted, batting her eyes at Legolas. He groaned inwardly, but forced a smile, stood up, and held his hand out to her which she took quickly, and he led her to the floor where many others had already congregated. They danced and twirled to the fast pace, and Legolas found himself admiring the movement of her graceful body, but he was relieved when Elrohir asked to cut in.

"Of course, my friend!" Legolas replied jovially, and dodged away before Mary Sue could protest. He meandered his way through the thick crowd to the other side of the hall, and there he spotted Elenmírë dancing with the two most enthusiastic Hobbits of the bunch, Merry and Pippin. Each had a hold of one of her hands, and they were pulling and swinging her this way and that, and in their other hands, they each held a pint of beer. Her laughter rung in the air, and it touched him to see that two of the smallest people in the hall could bring such entertainment to the one who had seemed so diminished back in the woods. However, the Hobbits, being as tipsy as they were, managed to tangle themselves with her arms and legs, tripping her by accident. Before she fell, Legolas was at her side, catching her in his arms, and slowly brought her up to steady herself.

"Oi!" Merry protested. "Thanks for catching her, but who said you could cut in, Legs?" Legolas grimaced at the nickname, but Elenmírë squealed into a fit of giggles. She bent down to stare the two in the face.

"Merry, Pip, I think it best you finish those pints before we engage in another dance," she suggested softly, bestowing her best smile. "I promise you both more dances before the night is through." They looked rather forlorn and stared into their pints, and Elenmírë, softening, hugged them both. With that, smiles appeared on both their faces, and they gently shoved her in Legolas' direction.

"Alright, you can have this one dance with her, Legs, but we'll be back soon!" Pippin called out. "You cannot escape us, m'lady!" They both bowed low from their waists before slipping through the crowd, crying out for more beer. She smiled, and then turned to look at Legolas. He bowed slightly and reached for her hand.

"May I have this dance, arwenamin?" he asked, smiling with pleasure at the faint blush that painted her cheeks. She merely nodded and slipped her hand in his as he curled his other arm around her waist. He was surprised at the strength he felt in the grip of her hand, but as his arm brushed over her sword, he remembered she was also second in command to the Guard of Rivendell. She was no weak female, that was certain, but her strong stature matched his, and he realized how wonderful it felt to feel her in his arms. An understanding came over him; it felt better to hold someone who had more substance, not like many of the She-Elves he had danced with in all of his nearly three thousand years of life. They felt rather slim and fragile, as if they would break in his arms if he held on too tightly, but Elenmírë had a power within her strong body, and he knew he preferred this feeling much more for it matched his own spirit.

Elenmírë could not believe the energy she felt within herself when she slipped her hand into his, and when she locked her eyes with his blue ones, she felt a flame within her ignite, but she knew not what it was. They started to dance to the music, and soon, they were laughing along with the crowd as the song grew ever faster, and they fought to keep up with light steps. Elenmírë could hear her heart pounding with excitement as his hold on her grew ever tighter, and a flash of realization crossed the depths of his eyes as he slowed their dancing down.

His heart was caught in his throat as they stopped moving, not caring that the music had continued, but he took in her face, her exquisite grey eyes revealing her soul to him, trusting him into her sacred heart, though he was sure she knew not what her eyes were disclosing. He could read her emotions as they collided in a mixed cacophony across her face, and he knew she was reading his expressions just as well as he was reading hers, for their faces were mere reflections of each other. He saw himself in her eyes, and he could feel the mutual understanding in the beating of her heart against his. Her cheeks were flushed from exertion, and her lips were red and full, and he wanted nothing more than to feel them beneath his, wondering if they tasted just as sweet as they looked. It was not logical, what he was feeling. He had only met her today, but he was captivated. Elenmírë in leggings or in a gown, he cared not; all he wanted above all else was to figure out what mysteries she kept well-hidden within her.

The song suddenly ended, and as cheers erupted, Legolas and Elenmírë came crashing down to earth and they released each other, applauding with the crowd.

"I am quite surprised to see that Merry and Pippin are not already here to cut in for the next dance," Legolas commented lightly, forcing his heart to behave, but it rebelled in his chest as if trying to break free from its restraints to physically join hers. "They seemed rather determined to keep you to themselves for the entire night."

"They are quite overprotective," she laughed. "But I cannot entirely say I am all too surprised that they do not grace us with their presence at this moment." She pointed to where they sat, their arms crossed over the tabletop and their heads resting on top of their arms with their eyes closed. "It seems they have drunk themselves to sleep."

"There you are, Legolas!" a melodious voice called out, and Legolas flinched at the sound, but forced a smile on his face when he turned to greet Mary Sue, and Boromir who accompanied her. "Oh, hi Elenmírë," she said with sugary fake sweetness.

"Hello," Elenmírë replied flatly, the iciness in her demeanor returning. She did not know how it was possible that she could feel blissfully happy one moment and turn dreadfully depressed the next. She felt she was soaring in Legolas' arms, and she hated the little human, who was now leaning in possessively near Legolas, pressing her large bosom against his arm. "And hello to you, Boromir." She gave him a small smile, and he took her hand and placed a kiss on it.

"Hello, my Lady," he replied, his face filling with warmth. The music had started up again, but it was more of slow waltz, and Mary Sue had taken the liberty to drag Legolas a few feet away before he could utter his good-bye. Elenmírë looked back to Boromir to avoid looking at how closely Legolas and Mary Sue were now dancing. "I was wondering if you would like to have this dance with me?" Her eyes shot back to Merry and Pippin who did look rather pathetic, having fallen asleep at the table, and she looked back at Boromir apologetically and gestured to her two friends. He nodded in understanding, but a smile still played on his lips. "I would like to help you take them to their rooms, if you don't mind?"

"Thank you, Boromir," she said softly, the corners of her lips turning up. "It would look very odd if I carried both hobbits by myself."

They proceeded to the table, and tried to shake them awake, but failed miserably with Pippin uttering in his sleepy stupor, "I didn't miss second breakfast, did I, Merry?" Elenmírë took Pippin while Boromir took Merry, and they walked out of the hall quietly and tread softly to their quarters. There, servants were waiting and took the drunk hobbits from them, thanking the Lady Elenmírë and the esteemed Boromir for their thoughtfulness and left them.

They walked slowly down the hallways, heading back to the dance, but Elenmírë could think of nothing else except for how she wished she were with Legolas instead. Then, feeling angry at herself for letting him consume her mind and for being so rude to Boromir, even in her thoughts, she spoke. "So, Boromir, what do you think of the Lady Mary Sue?" He paused in thought for a minute before speaking.

"She is incredibly beautiful," he started, "and she is quite a charmer. But I heard the way she spoke to you, and I found it insulting." He shrugged. "I do not know her well enough to honestly state a well-rounded opinion, but my impression so far is that she is still young and needs to learn respect." He tilted his head in question. "Why do you ask, My Lady?"

"I do not know why I let her get to me," she found herself saying, and ducked her head in embarrassment. "What I mean to say is, others have said similar things about me, yet I did not threaten them with my sword the way I was about to with that girl." They continued to walk quietly, and Boromir picked up her hand again and gave her a reassuring squeeze.

"My Lady, I beg your pardon if I across as presumptuous, but although I do feel a sense of insecurity around you," he started, his eyes shining, "you most certainly do have your strengths. Believe in those, as much as your family and your friendly hobbits do." He added as an afterthought, "And after having the pleasure of conversing with you tonight, as much as I do." Surprised, her eyes flashed up to look at him, and she saw genuine sincerity in his face. _'What a kind friend,'_ she thought quietly. They slowed their steps as they reached the grand entrance and paused outside the door.

"Thank you, Boromir," Elenmírë said quietly, looking forlornly into the lit hall. Boromir stepped inside and turned back to look at her expectantly, but she gently shook her head. "I think I have had my share of feasting for the day," she apologized. "Thank you for your help with Merry and Pippin. I am sure they would thank you themselves if they were not so consumed with drink." He chuckled.

"Good night, My Lady," he bid. "Rest well tonight."

"Thank you," she replied. "I wish you the same, Boromir of Gondor." He nodded and drifted into the crowd, and she turned and walked down another hallway to her quarters. She heard quiet, light footsteps following her, and she paused and gazed back. "Father?"

"Are you ill, my dear?" Lord Elrond asked, concern wrinkling his brow. "I saw you return with Boromir after taking Merry and Pippin to their quarters, but you did not stay. The hour is not yet late." She shook her head.

"No, father, I am fine," she replied, "but my heart cares not for more dancing." Lord Elrond remained quiet as he studied her face for a few minutes and smiled.

"My dear, you do amaze me," he said softly, giving her a hug. "You keep your beauty well hidden, but I am glad to see that you have privileged us with a glimpse of it tonight." He paused again, before speaking. "What is it you feel for Legolas?" Blood rushed to her face at his name, and she shook her head in embarrassment. She could not allow herself to hope for anything greater than friendship with Legolas, especially with Mary Sue draping herself over him at any opportunity she was given. Elenmírë knew she could not bear it if she allowed herself to fall for someone again only to have him love someone else…Her thoughts went back to Aragorn, and she frowned.

"I do not know," she said truthfully, looking into her father's face for answers. "I do not know how to describe what exactly I feel when he is near, but it cannot be anything more than a longing for friendship." Elrond grinned knowingly at his daughter, and shook his head.

"It is more than that, my dear, and I think you know it" he said softly, "for I heard it in your voice when you accepted his apology and saw it on your face when you danced with him tonight." He softly kissed her forehead before walking away. "Sleep well, Elenmírë. Tomorrow is the Council, and there is much to discuss." She nodded.

"Good night, father." She walked the remaining distance to her chambers, and Annaril helped her out of her gown before Elenmírë fell on her bed, her eyes glazing over with slumber.

* * *

TBC...


	6. Chapter Five: The Council Of Elrond

**Disclaimer:** Nothing belongs to me.

**Author's Notes:** _01/17/06_ - Wee, good-bye lengthy author's notes.

**The Imperfect One**  
By: Goddess-Isis-112

**Chapter Five: The Council of Elrond**

Elenmírë was again at her mirror early the next morning, critically analyzing her body, which was clad in a tunic and leggings. Annaril had been beyond pleased that morning when she had been allowed to plait her hair once more. However, Elenmírë refused to endure another minute in a heavy gown, settling for her familiar attire, but staring at her reflection, it dismayed her to see her usual heavy bottom and the tiny bulge of belly near her belt. Annaril stood several feet behind her, shaking her head in disapproval at Elenmírë's constant worrying over her body and her looks.

"Arwenamin, I don't mean to be rude, but you will be late for the council if you do not hurry," Annaril warned, grabbing a cloak out of Elenmírë's closet and handing it to her. "You must wear this; it is a bit chilly outside today."

"Thank you," she replied, automatically putting it on, and she sighed with relief as it covered her entire body. Annaril ran a comb through Elenmírë's long tresses one last time before giving her a gentle push to the door.

As she walked down the long terraces, she paused a moment to admire the beautiful sun who had risen in all her glory, spreading her enlightened fingertips to caress the land below, reaching from the far peaks of the Misty Mountains to the dew that rested on the golden yellow leaves of the birch trees that surrounded Rivendell. She tilted her head and closed her eyes, relishing the trickle of warmth that stroked her cheeks, and uttered a silent prayer to the Valar for that quiet moment of peace for she knew that the day's Council would not be a happy one.

Her mind began to drift as she stood there, and in her thoughts, events from the night before launched into replay, moving in slow motion as she recalled her last dance with Prince Legolas. She remembered the smile that softly lifted the corners of his lips as his deep-sea blue eyes pierced hers, and almost instantly, her heart twitched with pleasure at reliving the reassuring pressure of his arm snaking around her waist to hold her ever so closer to himself. Then a coldness ensnared her happy memories when the vision of Mary Sue pulling Legolas away crammed her head, and her eyes popped open, a frown deepening on her face. Legolas was not hers, nor would he ever be hers, especially with Mary Sue lurking everywhere, and she was well aware that compared to Mary Sue's obvious beauty, Elenmírë was nothing more than an Elf that took up space. Last night was merely a dream, and now that she was well awake in reality, she could not dwell on a simple dream alone, not when other pressing issues demanded her attention. With that in mind, she pulled herself away from the scenic terrace and earnestly headed to the meeting place of the Council of Elrond, hurrying her steps as she heard the warning bell toll once.

She arrived on time, scurrying right behind Gandalf, Bilbo, and Frodo. She paused next to them, looking at Lord Elrond for direction, and he bid them to sit by him, Elenmírë being the closest to his side, and Frodo, Bilbo and Gandalf following respectively. Her expression remained cool and neutral, but inside, she felt sick as she gazed over the stern countenances of those present, the importance of the meeting finally sinking in. Aragorn sat to the side, alone and isolated, and his grey eyes met hers, twinkling with greeting. She gave him a slight nod, ignoring the tumultuous response her heart emitted, and continued to observe the rest. Farther along the circle, there was Glorfindel, and beside him, her father's chief advisor, Erestor, along with the rest of the advising cabinet members. Included was Galdor, an Elf sent as a messenger by Círdan the Shipwright from the Grey Havens, whom Elenmírë calmly greeted with the nod of her head. Next was the Man of Gondor, Boromir, and he affectionately welcomed her with a smile. Her lips twitched instinctively into an awkward grin before shifting her gaze uncomfortably to the Master Dwarf Gloin, and his son, Gimli. There was a slight gap after the Dwarves before her eyes landed on an Elf from the company of Mirkwood. Her heart hammered in anticipation as she slowly continued to look down the line at a leisurely pace until her eyes fell on the face that she had emblazoned forever in her memory, a face that had been patiently waiting for her stare, waiting for her eyes to meet his. But she did not pause. In fact, she casually looked to the person sitting next to him, stubbornly refusing to dwell on his face no longer than she had to, and although the person sitting next to Legolas was Mary Sue, she gave no sign, no indication nor any reaction at all to who the girl was or why she was allowed to sit with the Council, though the last question was burning to be asked. Appearing indifferent, she looked to her Father, waiting for the Council to begin and hoping that Legolas would take her hints and leave her alone. She did not want to have him weaken her at a time such as this, nor at any time for that matter, for she did not want to become too emotionally involved with a person whom she felt would never want such an imperfect one as she, especially when a most beautiful creature, Mary Sue, doted on him. She clenched her jaw, her heart and soul firmly resolved now to only one thing: to save her home and her family from the doom that threatened to overpower them all. Despite the night before, the harsh realities of their world snatched her flimsy hopes away, and she decided at that moment, no matter what, Legolas was not going to be a priority.

Legolas, however, sat in shock at her obvious dismissal and lack of interest, but tried to appear unaffected. _'What is she trying to do!'_ his mind yelled insanely in his head. _'She nodded at everyone else, and Boromir even received a smile! Does she not care at all about last night?'_ Then he remembered with a jolt. _'Of course she would dare not think of it at such times.'_ But a fear took root within him. _'The look in her eyes seemed so set, so determined, as if to push me away, but, surely she could not want that, especially not after what we shared?'_ What astonished him the most was her indifferent glance over Mary Sue, whom she had always before greeted with a cold, challenging, steely stare, but today, she merely looked through the girl as if she had not existed at all. He waited calmly for Lord Elrond to address the Council, silently scolding himself for his selfishness, but he could not stop the disturbing battle that continued to rage within himself.

"Strangers from distant lands, friends of old," Elrond began, his eyes piercing into every face as he studied the lot. "You have been summoned here to answer the threat of Mordor. Middle Earth stands upon the brink of destruction. None can escape it. You will unite or you will fall. Each race is bound to this fate, this one doom." He turned to Frodo and gestured to a circular, flat-surfaced stand in the center of the council. "Bring forth the Ring, Frodo." Frodo fearfully glanced at Gandalf and at Elenmírë before he timidly stepped down and placed the Ring on the stand with a loud thump. Almost immediately, murmurs ran through the council as all leaned forward in amazement, staring at it, and even Elenmírë felt a selfish tug in her heart as she admired its shiny exterior.

"So it is true," Boromir muttered, his eyes growing wide, but whispers ran along the the circle.

"The doom of man…"

Suddenly, Boromir stood and a fiery expression covered his face as he pointed his finger accusingly along the circle. "It is a gift, a gift to the foes of Mordor. Why not use this gift? Long has my father, the Steward of Gondor, kept the forces of Mordor at bay. By the blood of our people are your lands kept safe. Give Gondor the weapon of the enemy. Let us use it against him!" Elenmírë's eyes widened at the one who had been once so kind but was now so vicious and demanding in his words. _'Is he mad?'_ she thought, forcing her tongue to lay still.

"You cannot wield it!" Aragorn argued, voicing Elenmírë's very thoughts. "None of us can. The One Ring answers to Sauron alone! It has no other master." She nodded in agreement, silently cheering Aragorn on.

"And what would a Ranger know of this matter?" Boromir sneered, taking a step towards him. Elenmírë's mouth fell open in surprise and stood up, shaking with disbelief. _'Does he not know?'_ her mind questioned. _'The fool!'_ To ask for the Ring was pure naïveté, but she could no longer hold her tongue, especially with the insult he threw to his very King.

"This is no mere Ranger!" she snapped. "He is Aragorn, Son of Arathorn!" Astonishment crossed the Man's face as he turned in her direction. "You owe him your allegiance." The revelation of the Ranger's true identity froze the Steward's son in his tracks.

"Aragorn?" he repeated. "This is Isildur's heir?"

"And heir to the throne of Gondor," Legolas cut in, standing up as well. Aragorn waved his hand in protest.

"Havo dad, Legolas, Elenmírë (Sit down, Legolas, Elenmírë)," he ordered, his grey eyes pleading with hers. She softened immediately and bowed her head as she took her seat, but inside she was seething. _'Damn you, Aragorn,'_ she cursed silently. _'Accept the title that is rightfully yours!'_ Boromir was also angry, but not for the same reason.

"Gondor has no King," he scoffed. "Gondor needs no King." He settled back into his seat, his eyes giving Elenmírë a glimpse of an apology, but it quickly disappeared as he stared into the power of the Ring.

"Aragorn is right," Gandalf concluded. "We cannot use it."

"You have only one choice," Elrond said gravely, sighing. "The Ring must be destroyed." A soft murmur escaped from the Ring, and the tension of the council mounted at the words. A wave a despair washed over Elenmírë, and she looked desperately at her father for reassurance, but he would not meet her eyes.

"Then what are we waiting for?" boomed Gimli as he approached the stand with ax in hand. To everyone's complete horror, he swung his ax hard at the ring, and in a flash, Gimli was flung to the floor, the blade of his ax shattered to pieces. Immediately, his father Gloin was at his side, pulling the stunned Dwarf to his feet.

"The Ring cannot be destroyed, Gimli Son of Gloin by any craft that we here possess," Elrond informed, his voice firm. "The Ring was made in the fires of Mount Doom. Only there can it be unmade. It must be taken deep into Mordor and cast back into the fiery chasm from whence it came. One of you must do this." A silence once again took ahold of the council and they stared at each other uneasily.

"One does not simply walk into Mordor," Boromir sighed, his voice tired. "Its black gates are guarded by more than just orcs. There is evil there that does not sleep, and the Great Eye is ever watchful! It is a barren wasteland riddled with fire, ash and dust. The very air you breathe is a poisonous fume. Not with ten thousand men can you do this! It is folly!" Elenmírë felt a rage course through her veins, not only because of Boromir's lack of faith in her father's conclusion, but because of his ignorance of what would happen if they did not risk their lives to destroy the Ring. Once again she was at her feet, as was Legolas, who felt exactly the same way.

"Have you heard nothing Lord Elrond has said?" she cried out angrily, and Legolas cut in before she could speak another word.

"The Ring must be destroyed!" he roared fervently. They stood side by side, both fuming with impatience at the Man from Gondor when suddenly, Gimli Son of Gloin was also on his feet, his eyes challenging the two Elves.

"And I supposed you two think you're the ones to do it?" he accused, marching straight to Legolas, his stubby, gloved fists shaking at them both. _'Does he not understand?'_ Elenmírë's mind cried out. Boromir also could not take all this sitting down and rose to his feet as well, walking until he was face-to-face with Elenmírë.

"And if we fail?" he questioned her, his eyes shooting daggers into hers. His hot breath warmed her cheeks and his nose was flaring. "What then? What happens when Sauron takes back what is his?"

Gimli now had another ax on his side, his hand ready on its handle as he glared hatefully up at Legolas. "I will be DEAD before I see the Ring in the hands of an Elf!" At this, all Elves, save Elrond and Glorfindel, were on their feet, shouting curses in Elvish toward the little dwarves, who shouted in spite, "No one trust an Elf!" But Elenmírë stared in quiet disbelief at Boromir, who also could not take his eyes from her face. She could see the battle within his eyes; there was a selfish desire to behold the One Ring in his possession, but there was also another sort of desire, but she knew not what…Elrond's voice loomed over the commotion, and the din diminished at the sound of his voice. They all turned and looked at him, and for the first time, he looked weary, the lines of worry crossing his brow.

"The road must be trod, and it will be very hard," he started. "And neither strength nor wisdom will carry us far upon it. This quest may be attempted by the weak with as much hope as the strong." Bilbo sighed with understanding and stood up before bowing low from his waist to the Lord of Rivendell.

"Very well, very well, Master Elrond," he said quite suddenly. "It is plain enough what you are pointing at. Bilbo the silly hobbit started this affair, and Bilbo had better finish it or himself. When ought I to start?" They all gaped at him in utter astonishment, but Gloin smiled, remembering his adventures with the little hobbit sixty years ago, and said naught but knew that he was one that they could trust.

"Of course, my dear Bilbo," Gandalf said, surprisingly calm, "but you cannot take the thing back. It has been passed on, dear friend." At his words, a realization dawned on the entire council as they each took their seats, all keeping their eyes downcast as the noon-bell rang. Elenmírë could hear the labored breathing of the tiny hobbit Frodo who sat next to her, twisting his hands. His small voice called out quietly, piercing Elenmírë's heart with its melancholic tone.

"I will take the Ring to Mordor," he declared, "though I do not know the way." Gandalf turned and looked to his little friend with encouragement as well as sadness written plain across his face.

"And I will help you bear this burden, Frodo Baggins," he proclaimed, "as long as it is yours to bear." He lifted a reassuring hand and gave his tiny shoulder a squeeze. Aragorn walked calmly in front of the hobbit, and went down on bended knees.

"By my life or death, I can protect you, I will," he stated. "You have my sword."

"And you have my bow!" Legolas announced, walking to his side.

"And my ax!" Gimli followed.

"And my blade!" Elenmírë cried out, turning in her seat to smile upon Frodo.

"No, Elenmírë, you will not go," Elrond protested, rising from his seat. "I will not allow it!"

"But father," she protested, "it is my duty as a warrior to protect the one who will bear the greatest burden of us all! I will not stay home like a helpless maiden when my help will be needed. I am a warrior, father," she emphasized, her eyes imploring. "If my services are needed to help save Middle Earth, then I will not decline." Elrond's face was impassive, but his eyes betrayed the fear he felt in the thought of losing his foster daughter to war. But he knew she was right; she would not allow herself to sit when others were in dire need, especially if the others were all the free peoples of Middle Earth. And Legolas…Elrond knew in his heart that her heart had already succumbed itself to Legolas' care, whether she denied it or not, and if Legolas was to go on this journey without her, her spirit would only fade faster. To detain her to Rivendell would be a death sentence, and Elrond would rather have his daughter die free in battle than to have her slowly ebb away at home.

After a silent moment, he slowly nodded his head in approval, despite the distress he felt in his heart. She ran to him, and he embraced her hard, his arms shaking with grief as he held onto her. Tears sprung to her eyes and she choked out, "Worry not, father. I can take care of myself easily enough." He could not reply but gently rocked her back and forth as if she were but a babe. They reluctantly let each other go, and she wiped the tears that had fallen from her eyes. When she looked across the council, she was surprised to see tears also upon Mary Sue's face as she studied the interlude between the Lord of Rivendell and his daughter. _'But why does she cry?'_ Elenmírë's mind mused, amazed that Mary Sue was looking at her, not with contempt nor utter dislike, but with mutual understanding and sympathy. However, she could not dwell any further on Mary Sue for Boromir had begun to speak.

"You carry the fate of us all, little one," he started, nodding his head at Frodo. Glancing around the circle for confirmation, he continued. "If this is indeed the will of the council, then Gondor will see it done."

"Eh!" a manic voice called out from the bushes behind Frodo's chair, and Elenmírë immediately withdrew her sword at the sound. However, it was only Frodo's faithful companion, Samwise Gamgee, and he ran in and stood defiantly next to Frodo. "Mr. Frodo isn't going anywhere without me!"

"No, indeed," Elrond chuckled lightly, "it is hardly possible to separate you, even when he is summoned to a secret council and you are not." Another cry of displeasure called out, this time from the terrace on the opposite side and in ran two other hobbits, Elenmírë's very own admirers, Merry and Pippin.

"Oi!" Merry cried out. "We're coming, too!" They both ran to Elenmírë's side. "You'd have to send us home tied up in a sack to stop us!"

"Anyway," Pippin interjected, his hand clasping tightly to Elenmírë's, "you need people of intelligence on this sort of mission…quest…thing!"

"Well, that rules you out, Pip," Merry muttered underneath his breath, and Elenmírë gave out a jolly laugh as Pippin shot him a look of bewilderment. She looked up at her father, her eyebrows raised, and he smiled.

"Ten companions," he pondered. "So be it! You shall be the Fellowship of the Ring!"

"Great!" Pippin called out happily. "Where are we going?"

* * *

TBC  



	7. Chapter Six: Revelations of An Ancient P...

**Disclaimer:** Everything concerning Middle Earth belongs to Tolkien. The script of The Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Ring belongs to New Line Cinema. No money is being made.

**The Imperfect One**  
By: Goddess-Isis-112

**Chapter Six: Revelations of An Ancient Prophecy**

After the Council, Elenmírë, Elrond and Gandalf walked toward Elrond's private office to discuss a few certain things involving her that the two males were sure she would not like. As soon as they settled inside with Elenmírë sitting across from both her father and Gandalf at a table, she burst out with questions that she had withheld since the beginning of the Council.

"Father, Gandalf, why was Mary Sue there?" she asked urgently, looking from one to the other and back again. "And where were Elladan and Elrohir?" Elrond sighed.

"That is why we have brought you here," he said slowly. "Gandalf and I have discovered a long forgotten prophecy, some of which is written on the One Ring. At first, we did not know what it all meant until Legolas arrived with Mary Sue, and that was when it became more clear."

"What became clear?" Her voice was just above a whisper, small and timid, as if she were afraid of the answer. The looks on their faces unnerved her, and she knew not how to deal with it. _'Is Mary Sue that important to all this?'_ she longed to ask, but the words caught in her throat, and her intuition was already telling her _yes_.

"Mary Sue has yet to know this, but her coming to Middle Earth had been foreshadowed long ago in this prophecy," Gandalf explained. "What we gather from its riddle is that she is the One sent to help save Middle Earth from the Darkness of Mordor." At first, Elenmírë cracked a small smile, thinking it only a joke, and waited for them to tell her the truth. However, their stern expressions erased her doubts away, and she shook her head vigorously.

"But that can't be," she denied, torn between laughing hysterically and bursting into tears. She had thought that when she was allowed to journey with the Fellowship, she would have been rid of Mary Sue for good, at least for a little while. "She cares not for our world, but only for the love of the Prince of Mirkwood does she stay! How can she, a simple human girl, save all of Middle Earth? She is but a weakling!"

"Elenmírë," Elrond started, his voice hinted with a touch of warning. "Your judgment of her will play no part in this. Her role is vital to our success over the Dark Lord. It has already been laid out in the prophecy, and we will not be the ones to hinder fate." He placed a loving hand over hers as she looked away, and his voice grew tender with fatherly affection. "My dear, I did not wish it to be so when you vowed your blade to protect Frodo, but you are one of the Ten that the prediction speaks of. Half of the prophecy has already been fulfilled. Who are we to deter the destiny of Middle Earth? Mary Sue must travel with the Fellowship, and this reality will be much easier to deal with if you accept it."

"How can you be so sure it is she that this prophecy speaks of?" she demanded, tears welling in her eyes. "Why is it that my fate is to risk my life to protect the one I loathe with all my being? It does not seem fair! I wish none of this had happened!"

"Ah, child," Gandalf pacified, "So do all who live to see such times, but that is not for them to decide. All we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given to us." He bestowed upon her a smile of reassurance. "There are many other forces at work in this world besides the will of evil, and that is an encouraging thought."

"None of this is encouraging, Gandalf," she whispered stubbornly, the light of her being wavering slightly. "If my only purpose in this world was merely to become an expert of the sword to protect her, then none of this is encouraging at all!"

"But, Elenmírë, you are not protecting just her life, but the life of all the Free Peoples of Middle Earth," Elrond pointed out, "and that _is_ encouraging for you are a strong warrior. Think of it only in this way if you must: protect her only for the sake of our world, my dear." She bowed her head, rebellion seeping out of her bones, but she could not yet agree until she had seen all the proof pointing to Mary Sue's necessary involvement.

"I wish to see it," she stated, her voice even. "I want to see this prophecy." Elrond lifted a thin sheet of parchment from a stack of papers at his side and gently placed it on the tabletop, pushing it in her direction. The words were written with a steady hand, but the black ink had faded into a dark indigo, and the thick layer of dust that had covered the forgotten parchment had been hastily swept to the sides where it collected in bunches and clung to the edges. Her eyes slowly scanned over the runes, and it read thus:

Three Rings for the Elven-kings under the sky;

Seven for the Dwarf-lords in their halls of stone,

Nine for Mortal Men doomed to die,

One for the Dark Lord on his dark throne

In the Land of Mordor where the Shadows lie.

One Ring to rule them all. One Ring to find them,

One Ring to bring them all and in the darkness bind them

In the Land of Mordor where the Shadows lie.

Hope yet dwells in one savior alone

Assisted by a Fellowship of Ten

On the journey, powers she will hone

Far greater than those of her forefathers of Men.

From a faraway land hidden from all

She will emerge with the strangest of light

By her sword the Great Evil shall fall

The world will see naught another black night.

One life saved, One doomed to end

And two lives made into one.

A broken heart shall slowly mend

Then the deeds of the Ten will be done.

"As you see," Elrond said softly, "Mary Sue does fit all descriptions of the One. She is of another world that no one has seen, and she is of the line of Men. When Legolas had first informed us of how she arrived in Northern Mirkwood, she had appeared amid dazzling light. There is no doubt left in our minds of why she is here."

"It does point to her," Elenmírë admitted, keeping her eyes downcast to prevent the two from reading her emotions.

"We shall inform her this afternoon," he informed her. "We wanted her at the Council today to prepare her for what exactly she will be dealing with, even thought she knows nothing of this yet."

"And what of Elladan and Elrohir?" she asked, desperately looking for a change of subject. She hated talking about how important Mary Sue was to the future of them all, and she did not want another bout of jealousy to wash over her. "Why were they not with us at the Council?"

"While we were at the Council, they were gathering a group of scouts to travel to our allies," Elrond explained. "We had a long discussion early this morning, and inquiries of what happened to the Black Riders surfaced. Both felt it was important to discover what has become of them and to warn others to keep a watch for them. After the Council, they left immediately with Aragorn, and they will be back as soon as possible."

"I should have gone with them!" Elenmírë cried out in surprise at the news. She hated being left behind, and the fact that they had decided this without her hurt her immensely for they had never left her out of their affairs before.

"No, Elenmírë, we needed you here for another purpose," Gandalf clarified, his eyes twinkling. "Elladan and Elrohir had both given testimony that you are indeed great with the Elven blade. 'The best of the Guard,' they had said, and your expertise will be needed here. Besides, we were well aware of your fear of the outside world, Elenmírë-"

"Because of my parents, you mean," she cut in, her eyes filling with sorrow, but it made no sense to her at all. "But why, then, would you allow me leave for a dangerous mission with the Fellowship, but refuse my participation on a simple scouting expedition?"

"Your involvement in the Fellowship is foretold in the prophecy," Gandalf reiterated. "Besides, you would not want someone sent in your place to watch over Mary Sue and Legolas, now, would you?" A hot blush painted her cheeks and she ducked her head in embarrassment.

"No." Gandalf gave a low chuckle at her response. _'How is it he knows so much?'_ she thought idly before turning to her father to rescue her from more humiliation.

"Like we mentioned earlier, your expertise will be needed here while the scouting parties are away," Elrond stated quickly. "You must train Mary Sue."

"What!" she exploded, her eyes growing wide with distress. "B-But, father, you cannot be serious?" He met her gaze and nodded in confirmation.

"Yes, Elenmírë, I am," he answered sternly. "As much as you hate the idea, it must be done. We do not know when Mary Sue's powers will emerge, so you must train her with the blade in the meantime." The words of the prophecy repeated in her head, and she groaned with disappointment. _By her sword the Great Evil shall fall, and the world will see naught another black night_.

"To be the best, one must learn from the best, I always say," Gandalf declared, "and for Mary Sue to be her best, she must learn how to wield the sword just as well as you do, maybe even better." Her heart fell even more at his words, and her light dimmed to a soft haze. Her skill with the sword was the only thing she had left to gain respect from all of Rivendell, and if Mary Sue were to become better than she, where, then, would Elenmírë stand in their eyes? _'Curse you, fate!'_ she condemned angrily in her thoughts. _'Damn you for making a mockery of my life!'_ She inhaled deeply to keep her breath steady and to stabilize her shaken heart. _'This I must do for the sake of my people,'_ she internally rationalized, and finally she nodded.

"Yes, I shall do as you both command of me," she murmured quietly, just loud enough for them to hear. If this was her destiny, then so be it, but that did _not _mean she could not give Mary Sue a hard time in training, she realized suddenly. She suppressed the urge to smile at the insight, but her mind could not help but laugh merrily. Maybe training Mary Sue would not be as bad as she thought after all…

* * *

TBC.  



	8. Chapter Seven: Lessons

**Disclaimer:** Everything Middle Earth belongs to Tolkien. No money is being made.

**Author's Note:**_01/17/06_ - I remember this being one of the chapters that I enjoyed writing even though I'd been dealing with something awful at the time. And after rereading it this time around, it's still a chapter that I really like.

**The Imperfect One**  
By: Goddess-Isis-112

**Chapter Seven: Lessons**

Elenmírë waited impatiently in a clearing by the stables, polishing her beloved blade with loving care until her reflection gleamed back at her. She grimaced at her distorted image, her nose appearing far flatter, her face far wider than she thought possible, and immediately she turned away and returned the blade back to its sheath. She dreaded the inevitable training that was planned for the day, but there was a single thread of excitement that teased her. There existed a part of her that wanted nothing more than to show Mary Sue what exactly Elenmírë was capable of with the blade in her hand. _'Of course, giving Mary Sue a tiny cut here and there is a bit of a bonus,'_ she thought wickedly, smirking slightly. But the girl's tardiness was wearing on her nerves.

"Where is that cursed girl?" she muttered to herself, roaming her keen eyes over the structures of Rivendell, which blazed in their magnificence in the early rays of dawn's first light. She allowed herself a quiet moment to admire the beauty of the city, knowing that she would soon be leaving her protected walls for the harsh realities of a world that had claimed the lives of both of her parents. She was frightened of the prospect of meeting the same fate as theirs, and one particular part of the forgotten prophecy had unnerved her to no end. _One life saved, One doomed to end and Two lives made into one. A broken heart shall slowly mend. Then the deeds of the Ten will be done._ She shivered slightly and hoped beyond hope that her life was not the one doomed to end, but she could not help but suspect hers would be the foretold broken heart. There was no doubt in her mind whose lives would be joined as one, and she crossed her arms, pacing back and forth angrily across the grass. "Stupid Mary Sue," she spat quietly, her eyes shooting livid glances to the only path that led to the clearing which still lay untouched of the pound of heavy human feet.

Elenmírë, however, was unaware of another pair of bluish grey eyes studying her from a terrace high above. Legolas had awoken before the break of day and was up and about, not knowing exactly what to do. Yesterday's revelation of the prophecy had shaken him, and he did not know precisely how to interpret the massive riddles that plagued the ancient scriptures. It was obvious, of course, that Mary Sue was indeed the One, but there was still doubt overshadowing his heart, and it grew ever stronger as he observed Elenmírë's irritated pacing across a clearing that was encircled by a mixture of birch and elm, both of whose golden leaves had cast a fair glow about her, adding to her own feeble light. He had been watching her since sunrise, and it was now almost an hour past. But still she waited for Mary Sue, who had yet to make an appearance, and he idly wondered himself where the girl was. He turned his attention back to Elenmírë and smiled, noting that as of late, Elenmírë had discarded the tight braid that she had confined her hair to the first time that they had met. Her dark hair was similar to that of the style that she had worn the night of their first and only dance together, but now it was much more practical, aiming to only keep her hair out of her face yet allowing it to flow freely down her back in its elegance.

He sighed quietly, frowning now, as he remembered her clear dismissal of him at the Council, trying to deduce reasons as to why she was avoiding him, but suddenly the answer to his ponderings wrapped her slender arms around his waist, pressing her body against his back. He had been so lost with his thoughts of Elenmírë that he had not noticed Mary Sue carefully creeping into his chambers, assuming her footsteps were those of a hurried servant, and he severely scolded himself quietly for not being attentive for now he was in the most uncomfortable position.

"Good morning, Mary Sue," he greeted, forcing his voice to sound cheerful as he turned around swiftly, and her arms undid themselves at his unexpected movement, much to his relief. But as quick as she had been before, they were coiled once again around him, and he found himself stuck in her embrace as she tightened her hold, pressing her cheek to his upper chest.

"Morning, Legolas," she answered in return, looking up at him imploringly with her violet eyes. "What were you thinking about? Me, perhaps?" She giggled and batted her eyelashes seductively at him, an arm now reaching around his neck as her other hand stroked his cheek. He gulped, trying to tear his gaze away from her beautiful face, but she looked so inviting to him at the moment, especially as she pressed her lips to a pucker, her hand gently pulling his face down to hers. He was losing himself as their faces neared each others, and she smiled eagerly, closing her eyes as he did, their lips only centimeters apart-

"No!" he exclaimed swiftly, pulling away from her and gripping onto the railing of the balcony, and his voice echoed throughout the valley. His gaze caught Elenmírë's as she stared up at them, her eyes wide with shock, and he was sure she had seen the entire incident. It took her another second or two to regain her composure, and she abruptly broke their eye contact when she did.

"Legolas?" Mary Sue reached over hesitantly to cover his hand with hers, but he snatched his away. "What's wrong?" she asked, her voice shaking with hurt. "Don't you want to kiss me?" He twisted his head and glared at her.

"You know you and I cannot be together," he stated evenly, turning to look forlornly at Elenmírë, who now sat at the base of a tree, her arms hugging her knees to her chest, her long hair draped across the side of her face, concealing her from his view. "I explained this to you many times before. I am immortal, Mary Sue. I cannot die, but your fate is bound to death. To forge a relationship between the two of us would only cause grief."

"Didn't you read the prophecy?" she questioned, raising an eyebrow. "Don't you remember? Two souls will unite, Legolas." She drew closer, linking her arm through his in one smooth motion while leaning her head against his shoulder. "Isn't it only obvious who those two are?"

It was obvious enough to Elenmírë who sat watching them from her humble seat below in the clearing, and the crack in her heart deepened from what she had witnessed. She had spotted Legolas in time to see Mary Sue greet him, and although Legolas' back was turned to Elenmírë at the time, it seemed as if he had bent down to kiss her. His cry of protest did not reach her ears for she was too consumed by her misery and had felt the beginnings of a sob rise within her throat but had tried desperately to stop it. Their eyes had locked for a moment, and Elenmírë knew her pain was evident in her expression and she had turned away, ducking under the protectiveness of an elm's tall branches. The painful pounding of her heart tortured her ears, and she turned her eyes to the heavens above, pleading for an answer.

"O why, merciful Elbereth, must this be my destiny?" she cried softly, tears falling down her cheeks. Her fingers futilely attempted to wipe them away, but she finally yielded to her sorrow, and permitted her tears to trek downward along the curves of her face.

"Lady Elenmírë?" a voice called out from the path, but she refused to look up. Boromir tread heavily through the clearing to her side and bent down next to her, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder. "What is it that ails you, my Lady?" he inquired, lifting her chin with his other free hand so that they faced each other. He gently brushed her hair away from her face, his eyes studying her for an answer.

"What are you doing here?" she asked instead, digressing from the subject. "How did you know where I was?" She sniffed and pulled out of his grasp, wiping the remaining tears away as she disguised her pain with indifference. Boromir sat in bewilderment at the swift change in her countenance, never before deeming it possible to be sobbing one moment and to be utterly uncaring the next, but it seemed as though the Lady Elenmírë had accomplished this feat quite easily.

"I was wandering around the stables, admiring the mares," he answered truthfully, "when I heard someone crying and followed the sound here." She shifted uncomfortably before standing up and stretching, and he watched in amazement as she started to pace as if nothing at all had been bothering her enough to cause her tears.

"I was merely frustrated," she replied flatly, and he knew that was as much as he was going to get out of her, at least for the moment. She wouldn't meet his eyes, and he knew to not question any further. However, she continued speaking. "I am to train Mary Sue for she is to come with us on our journey, but that girl has no shame in leaving me waiting for nearly an hour."

"I know about the training," Boromir commented, and she stopped from her pacing to shoot him a questioning glance. "Lord Elrond and Gandalf informed the rest of the Fellowship of the prophecy after their private meeting with you," he explained quickly. "They warned us, however, not to tell those who are not of the Fellowship, for we cannot put them into any danger with the knowledge, or rather, have _them _put the Fellowship in danger by leaking the information to our enemies if ever they were captured." His voice dropped to a lower tone as if speaking to himself. "I honestly cannot be sure what the prophecy means or why Mary Sue was chosen for such a quest. I have never heard of such a thing in all my life. Females are not allowed to fight in Gondor, and I have yet to see such that could change my mind." Elenmírë glanced sharply to him, crossing her arms in defiance.

"Is that a challenge, Man of Gondor?" she asked, narrowing her eyes, a glint of mischief sparkling amid the grey. Boromir caught the subtle mirth in her tone and smirked up at her, nodding his head.

"Yes it is," he answered, getting up from his sitting position on the clearing floor. "What, do you think _you _could prove me wrong?" She wore a mock expression of shock on her face at his insult.

"How dare you, to have the audacity to speak in such a manner to the second in command of the Guard of Rivendell!" she gasped dramatically, grinning widely as she unsheathed her blade. "You will pay for your words, sir." He laughed as he did the same, taking his stance in front of her.

"Is that so?" he mused before charging at her with a series of blows which she easily deflected, and she rolled her eyes at him. She knew he was holding back, and she was not going to let him slide away that easily from her taunts because of it. Elladan and Elrohir had done the same thing when training with her at first, and it offended her to no end that they had held back their most fierce attacks from her merely because she was female. She had struggled even harder to prove that she was indeed worthy of fighting a battle as well as they, and while she had progressed in skill, they quickly learned they had to entail their most advanced defenses to defeat her, but soon even that quickly failed to her ever-growing mastery of the sword. Boromir would now discover the same thing if he did not use the best of his ability to try to overpower her.

"Is that all you've got?" she yawned sarcastically, but he was rushing at her once more, this time with difficult swings that forced her to use counterattacks to end the onslaught of assaults. She giggled as his face grew red with determination. "Ah, that is more like it, Boromir!" She tightly gripped the hilt of her blade as she blocked his sword from slashing across her neck, and they stood face to face, surprising each other with their strength.

"You are strong," he admitted, grinning as he struggled to push her away, but her force against him was just as fierce.

"So you admit defeat?" she teased, keeping her Elven cool, showing no sign of restrain as he did.

"Never!" he cried, shoving her away with all the energy he could muster before he leaped to another position, readying himself for the steady slicing of her sword which she eagerly brought. They dueled aggressively, and the clashing of swords brought many to their terraces to watch the spar, including Lord Elrond, whose face was set with uneasiness at the growing friendship between Elenmírë and Boromir.

Boromir had concerned him especially during the Council when he had argued for the use of the Ring against the Dark Lord, but Boromir's strong, wise demeanor returned soon after they had been dismissed. A shadow was growing in his mind as he stared at the couple down below, hoping that his intuition was wrong. Boromir perfectly matched Elenmírë's fiery spirit, and he wanted nothing more than for his foster daughter to finally find the sort of affection that he could not provide, but he knew her heart was no longer hers to give for it was now in Legolas's possession. Boromir's obvious fondness of the Lady Elenmírë would no doubt cause some trouble; there lingered the feeling of doom as he watched their playful combat come to a close.

Their brawl had now fallen into an uncontrollable fit of laughter as Elenmírë slipped on a spot in the grass where the dew was heavy, blaming her clumsiness on her human half, and Boromir dropped down next to her, clutching his stomach from too much laughter as they both agreed on a draw.

"You could have claimed the victory, you know?" she informed him, not making the effort to lift herself from the spot where she had fallen. Instead, she comfortably sat with her legs crossed while she began polishing her blade once again. Boromir also took no heed of the wetness of the grass and copied her position, sheathing his sword.

"I would not dare," he replied, studying her meticulous, attentive ministrations. "You have risen to the challenge I set up and have proven me wrong, but I still cannot say that you represent all of female kind in the world. I still would not dare trust a woman with a sword." She sighed heavily at his response and shook her head, rolling her eyes.

"You males are all the same, no matter what race," she muttered, ceasing her vigorous cleaning, satisfied with her weapon's gleam. "You are all stubborn and determined, even when you're wrong." He laughed easily, enjoying her bluntness, but Elenmírë was up almost immediately at the sound of two pairs of feet walking into the clearing, one belonging to that of an Elf and the other belonging to a teenage girl. All the delight that had occupied Elenmírë's countenance was instantly gone at the sight of Mary Sue and Legolas, and she folded her arms in displeasure.

"Now you decide to grace us with your presence, an hour late," she growled at Mary Sue, barely giving acknowledgement to Legolas's company. "The first thing a warrior must learn is discipline, but it seems your absence of it will only make this harder for the both of us if you do not change your ways." Mary Sue glared back, picking uncomfortably at her tunic, which accented her perfect figure, much to Elenmírë's chagrin. She resisted the urge to straightened her own tunic, feeling even more self-conscious of her almost unnoticeable bulge and her wide hips and bottom.

"Why do you have to make me get up this early anyway?" Mary Sue snapped. "What's the use in trying to train me this early if I can barely function in the morning?" She held up her head defensively, her lips curved into a smirk. Elenmírë strode purposefully until she was barely inches away from Mary Sue, and the girl coward under Elenmírë's tall stature. She turned to Legolas for help, but he merely shrugged, amused at the lack of conviction in the girl's sharp words once Elenmírë was in her face.

"You must learn to be ready at all times," Elenmírë snarled icily. "You never know when you will be attacked. Of course, if you do not wish to learn how to defend yourself in the middle of the night when orcs assail our company, I do not wish to waste any more time with you. Do not blame me if you find yourself in a life-threatening position in the early hours and have not the slightest idea how to get yourself out of it." With that, the smirk left Mary Sue's face, and Elenmírë turned and walked briskly toward the path, before she heard a faint whisper of protest.

"Wait, please." Mary Sue shifted uncomfortably on her feet under Elenmírë's scrutinizing gaze as she turned around. "Look, I'm sorry," she continued, not meeting Elenmírë's eyes. "With Aragorn and your brothers gone, Lord Elrond said that you were the only worthy teacher of sword fighting, and with the prophecy and all, it seems I have no other choice than to learn how to handle a blade from the best person available." She finally looked up fearfully, uncertainty written plain across her face. "Really, I'm sorry, Elenmírë." Her genuine apology caught Elenmírë off guard, and she stared at the girl for several moments, debating whether to laugh and walk away or to relent and continue with the training. The latter finally overruled, and Elenmírë slowly marched to her forgotten pack by the foliage and she drew out an extra sheathed sword. Approaching the girl, she tossed it to her, and Mary Sue nearly dropped it but caught it in time before it hit the grass. _'I must do this only for the freedom of the peoples of Middle Earth,'_ Elenmírë reminded herself silently, hating the situation all the same. It was her duty to make sure Mary Sue succeeded, even if it meant losing her title as the best female warrior Rivendell had ever seen, and that did not make the pain in her heart lessen any. Despite her pointed ears, her human half became even more evident as her Elven light dimmed ever fainter.

"We must make one thing clear," Elenmírë said coolly, refusing to let her guard down. Everyone else seemed so charmed by the girl, but Elenmírë was determined not to soften her ways for her sake. "I am the teacher, and you are the student. If I hear or observe another sign of insubordination from you, these lessons will be over, and you will be on your own to find someone else who can teach you the way of the sword better than I." Mary Sue's eyes widened, and she snapped her mouth shut to keep from protesting as she nodded in agreement. Satisfied, Elenmírë looked over to Boromir and finally to Legolas, hating her heart at the moment for defying her wishes and leaping beyond her control at the sight of him despite the pain of the rejection she still felt from witnessing his kiss with Mary Sue, but she gave no external sign of the conflict within her. "Boromir, Legolas, if I may ask, will the two of you help with these lessons? In order for her to see examples of the techniques I wish to teach her, I would need one or both of you to help me, that is, if you want to do so." Boromir nodded immediately, but Legolas studied her eyes for a moment before giving any indication of his answer.

He remembered the way those same fiery eyes had once been an open window to her heart the night of the banquet, and he recalled the bursting affection that had sparkled in those misty pools of grey when she stared up at him. And the hurt that had been there merely minutes before when she had witnessed his almost kiss with Mary Sue was now gone, as if he had imagined it all in his head. Her eyes were cold and gave no sign whatsoever of the tender, gentle, loving soul he had beheld in his arms two nights ago, and his heart collapsed with disappointment. _'Fine,'_ he thought resolutely, hardening his heart. _'If she wishes not to be with me, then I was obviously mistaken.'_ His eyes traveled to Mary Sue, who shone with vivacious energy as opposed to the half she-elf, who stood in quiet discomfort for Legolas had yet to give his answer.

"Yes," he responded quite suddenly, desiring to say absolutely anything to pluck out a sign or any reaction at all from Elenmírë as evidence that she did care for him, that this coldness that she displayed was merely a mask of her feelings. If that meant saying something to hurt her, then so be it. "I will do all that I can to help Mary Sue, for she is important to me in more ways than one." Mary Sue's face lit up with hope as she snapped her head to stare at him, his negative response of the morning's interlude instantly erased and forgotten from her memory, but he looked not at her, focusing his eyes on Elenmírë alone. At first she did nothing and stood immobile on the spot, but then a quick flash of pain flared in her eyes and her lip trembled slightly; in the blink of an eye it was all gone. However, that was all he needed to calm the insecurity in his heart.

Elenmírë, on the other hand, was in utter turmoil at his statement, meeting his gaze only to nod at his answer, forcing herself not to turn away from him even as Mary Sue approached him and took a hold of his hand in happiness. Elenmírë tightly gripped the hilt of her sword as she unsheathed it once more, anger, resentment, jealousy, hurt and the like ringing in her ears, although none of it showed on her face, save only the one fleeting millisecond she allowed his words to affect her. Her voice remained calm and neutral when she commanded all their attention as she began to explain the dynamics of sword fighting to Mary Sue, and soon enough, she gratefully lost herself in the world of combat, trying to ignore her protesting heart.

While she concentrated her words on the details of handling and fighting with a sword, her audience stood in awe at the raw passion evident on her face of her love of the art of war. Her enthusiasm was addicting, and it was obvious to all why she was a leader among the Guard of Rivendell; her words incited a zeal for destroying all that was evil, and Boromir found himself itching to swing his sword, which he did soon enough when he and Elenmírë demonstrated a few attacks and counterattacks. Legolas and Mary Sue began to imitate their fray, and Elenmírë stopped to observe Mary Sue's formation, frowning at her perfect agility and instant adaptation to handling the sword, and Gandalf's earlier words worried her even more. _'To be the best, one must learn from the best, I always say, and for Mary Sue to be her best, she must learn how to wield the sword just as well as you do, maybe even better.'_ Elenmírë's anxiety increased as Mary Sue ducked away from Legolas, tripped him with her leg, and aimed the point of her blade right next to his neck as he fell flat on his back. _'Is there something this bloody annoyance cannot do?'_ her mind growled in bitterness as Mary Sue helped Legolas up, grinning haughtily in Elenmírë's direction.

"How's that for a first lesson, El?" she shot out, grinning with superiority. "All this sword stuff isn't as hard as everyone makes it out to be." She started swinging her blade, keeping her grip tight, her wrists lose, as if she had been handling the blade since the day she was born.

"My name is Elenmírë, not 'El' as you so causally put it," she responded flatly. "No offense to Legolas, but with the way he was hesitating, it seems his swordsmanship cannot compare to his archery." His cheeks colored slightly at her snub, but then again, he knew he deserved it. He had withheld when fighting Mary Sue, not knowing exactly how capable she was in defending herself, nor did he expect to be defeated so easily. "You will not learn how to fully defend yourself if your skills are not challenged." With that said, she gestured for Legolas to clear away and she drew out her blade smoothly as she faced Mary Sue. Elenmírë's eyes were filled with disgust as she studied Mary Sue's arrogant posture, and she wished for nothing more than to show her what exactly sword fighting entailed. Her adrenaline pumped through her muscles, knowing that the moment that she had been waiting for had finally come.

"What are you doing?" Mary Sue asked, the confidence leaking from her face as she looked at Elenmírë's ready stance and drawn sword.

"It seems you have surpassed most of our expectations, Mary Sue," she answered lightly, inspecting her blade for a moment. "Defeating Legolas is no light feat, so I suspect you must be ready for anything, yes?" Mary Sue said nothing but fear was written plain across her face, and Elenmírë smiled inwardly, her arm burning to slice her just once. "So, please. Attack me."

"Y-you can't be serious!" Mary Sue cried out, her eyes widening as she looked desperately to Legolas to step in and stop it. "I th-think I'm done for the day."

Elenmírë raised an eyebrow. "You have been here for only half an hour," she said coolly, "and you have only been fighting for half of that. There is no way you could be tired now." She smirked. "Besides, _I_ am the instructor here, and I can tell that you are ready, and even your cowardice cannot hide that. Now, attack me, and that is an order." Mary Sue shut her mouth, not knowing how Elenmírë would act if she refused, and after a moment of silence, she raised her sword and charged, swinging her blade at Elenmírë's head. She blocked the blow easily, but she was surprised at the power behind the stroke, though she did not show her emotions on her face or in her movements, thanking her Elven blood for giving her the ability to do so. But Mary Sue's strokes were becoming tougher and tougher as she swung this way and that, and sweat poured down both their faces as they dueled to defeat each other. Elenmírë improvised with each of Mary Sue's swings, hating herself for being impressed with Mary Sue's sudden skill.

However, Mary Sue's egotistical side once again took over, and she called out, "If I'd known it woulda been this easy, I would have taken up sword fighting a long time ago!" There was no jest in it, unlike the conversation between Boromir and Elenmírë during their duel. Mary Sue commented with only crude egotism, intending to offend, and Elenmírë cursed loudly, and her eyes stormed from a mild grey to an almost midnight blue with wrath. The walls holding Elenmírë's pent up aggression finally broke, and her rage flowed freely, feeding the fire that had been burning since the day the two had met. The morning's episode also flashed through her mind, and her hate boiled even hotter for the girl whom she thought had possession of the Legolas's heart. A surge of energy she had never felt before rushed through her veins, and she quickly increased her swings so swiftly that it was nearly impossible to differentiate one from the other. A terrifyingly beautiful white light was once again illuminated from her powerful form, and fear crept into Mary Sue's bones at the realization that she had said too much. She started to swing wildly to escape the assault of blows, but she was far too slow, and Elenmírë used this to her advantage. With a quick snap of her wrist, her blade cut cleanly into Mary Sue's right arm, causing her to drop her sword at the contact. Elenmírë's left arm lifted up, and she knocked Mary Sue to the ground, punching her face with her clenched fist as she swirled in half a circle, calmly facing the two males as Mary Sue dropped to the ground behind her.

Shocked, Mary Sue slowly looked down at her slashed sleeve and saw that the cut was not deep, but it was cut so smoothly that it took several seconds for blood to finally flow out, and when it did, tears ran down her cheeks at the pain. Her face was throbbing with excruciating soreness, not only from the punch to her right eye, but also from a small nick on her high left cheekbone, placed there with such precision and quickness that she had not felt it before, but now that her salty tears washed upon it, it stung severely.

"You bitch!" she cried out pathetically from her place on the grass. "You fucking bitch!" Elenmírë turned around, cocking her head to one side with her eyes narrowed, noting the negative connotation of the statement, though she had never heard such words before.

"Are you insulting me, child?" she snapped, the fire in here eyes still burning. "The lesson you keep failing to learn is to never, under any circumstances, underestimate the abilities of your opponents. With that attitude of yours, you would not last a minute in battle." She stared keenly at the hurts she inflicted on the girl, and she smirked with fulfillment. "Be grateful that I have enough skill to not have chopped off your entire arm, even though I did have the opportunity to do so. You will receive far worse injuries out there in battle, and I suggest you grow accustomed to the pain."

"I hate you!" Mary Sue cried out, futilely trying to hurt Elenmírë with her shallow words. "I hate you! You're just a bitter, jealous person, and I hate you!" Instead of yelling the way Mary Sue hoped, Elenmírë just laughed, polishing her blade before placing it back in its sheath.

"I could care less if you hate me or not," she replied, crossing her arms, "for you are of no importance to me. I merely do what I must to ensure the safety of Middle Earth, and the aid that I provide in teaching you how to defend yourself, to toughen yourself as warrior is only part of my duty." She started to walk away, and Boromir followed suit, knowing that deep down, she was still hurt at Mary Sue's advancement in her craft, and he wanted to be there to comfort her in any way he could, his feelings turning sour at Mary Sue for using her snobbery to further damage Elenmírë's self-esteem.

"Fine!" Mary Sue sobbed, clutching her arm. Legolas had ripped a part of her tunic and wrapped it tightly around her wound, but it did not stop the pain. "I don't care about you either! I'll just refuse this mission, how about that!" Elenmírë stopped dead in her tracks and swerved around, shooting her an even angrier glare than she thought she was capable of.

"Do as you wish," she snarled, "but throwing away the warnings of the ancient prophecy will not only lose my home, but the home of your lover's. Let us see how much he will enjoy that." Legolas started at the term _lover_ and also the slight pain he heard in her voice but knew that with the limits of human hearing, Mary Sue did not distinguish it. However, she was struck silent at the reality of Elenmírë's words. "I suggest you find yourself a healer and a new teacher, for I will no longer bother with someone who insults me when I am trying to help her."

"What, cutting me up is part of the lesson?" Mary Sue snapped.

"You have already been told, child!" Elenmírë finally yelled, her face flushing red. "If you do not learn how to deal with the pain from the beginning, how will you learn how to fight through much worse injuries on the battlefield? The cut on your arm is merely a scratch compared to what most go through out in the real world, Mary Sue. And if you go into a battle thinking that you are a far better fighter than your opponent, you will surely fall faster than you know! Learning to be a warrior depends not only on physical skills but in your mentality as well!" She was breathing heavily, and when she turned to leave, Boromir placed a comforting arm around her, his hand protectively on the small of her back, as they walked away, surprising them all.

Legolas had no time to react for Mary Sue was in his arms the moment they were gone, and she was sobbing, babbling words of nonstop complaint, much of which made no sense for her face was buried against his chest. He supported her as she weakly walked with him out of the clearing and to the buildings, but he was also consumed with anger, not with Elenmírë (because he did agree with her reasoning), but with the Man of Gondor. He kept his face impassive as they walked through the terraces, but inside, he was seething with an emotion he could only discern as jealousy, now knowing what it was and how it felt, and he finally understood why it was an emotion no one liked. _'Boromir has no right!'_ he wanted to scream, but instead he tightened an arm around Mary Sue in anger, and she cried out.

"Ow!" She pulled away from him, and he looked and was suddenly startled at her injuries, really noticing them for the first time. Her right eye was red and swollen, and it was growing puffy, causing her face to match her currently unpleasant personality. "You squeezed my injured arm, Legolas!" She held her head high and walked ahead of him to leave him behind, but he made no effort to catch up with her. Instead, he surrendered to his commanding heart and fled down the corridor on his right, in search of Elenmírë's room, knowing that if he did not speak with her now, he may never have another chance to with Boromir's growing affection for her. He only hoped he had not waited too long…

* * *

TBC..  



	9. Chapter Eight: An Eavesdropping, Interfe...

**Disclaimer:** Everything Middle Earth belongs to Tolkien. I'm just borrowing a few of his characters and locations for a while. All original characters and storylines belong to me! No money is being made from this.

**Author's Note:** 01/17/06 - No major edits are made in this chapter. I just fixed a few grammatical things here and there, and maybe changed the wording at awkward points, but that's all.

**The Imperfect One**  
By: Goddess-Isis-112

**Chapter Eight: An Eavesdropping, Interfering Prince**

Legolas sighed as he gracefully leaped onto a branch of a cedar in one of the many gardens of Rivendell. He had spent nearly an hour trying to find Elenmírë's chamber, but there were too many corridors, too many rooms for him to search through, and the call of the wonderful midday weather pleaded with him to take a break from his frenzied search to admire Rivendell's natural wonders. The cedar whose branch he sat on was located along the border of a tiny glen facing a small waterfall that fed into a tiny stream, and along the water's edge lay an arrangement of moss-covered rocks and a variety of lilies whose red and white petals softly kissed the water's surface. A wind whispered to him through the rustling of the cedar's leaves, and he sighed with contentment. Nature had a way of calming his raging emotions, but a dull longing to share that moment with someone special tugged softly at him.

His thoughts returned once again to Elenmírë, wondering why, out of all the maidens he had ever met his entire life, she was the one to catch his attention. He frowned. She was not breathtakingly beautiful like Mary Sue, yet he knew every curve of her face and every silvery fleck in her eyes. But it was her passionate spirit that had grabbed a hold of his heart, and he knew from the moment he had met her that he would not have chosen another if he could. But she was fighting him; she was keeping herself out of his reach, so close and yet so far, and he did not know how to cross that distance that held them apart.

A soft laugh reached his keen ears, and he turned around to place the sound. It came from somewhere behind the cedar, and when he peered through the branches, he noticed a small path leading through a thick grove of sycamores. He nimbly jumped down and tread softly down the trail, his curiosity getting the better of him. The gurgling of the waterfall bid him farewell as he moved quietly, and the along the way, birds greeted him with their cheerful chirps. A sad smile spread on his lips, wishing he were as happy as they. The path curved to the right before sharply turning left, with a small river bordering the right side, and ahead of him, about fifteen meters away, he saw a tiny bridge made of stone, and upon it, halfway across the bridge, sat Elenmírë and Boromir with their legs dangling over the side. He immediately halted and ducked under the foliage on his left, straining his ears to hear their conversation over the excited babble of the water's welcoming cry.

"I do not know why she thinks of herself as superior," Elenmírë sighed softly. Her eyes were focused on some unknown spot in the river below them, and her lips pulled into a frown.

"Like I said before, you needn't worry yourself," Boromir soothed, studying her face. "Mary Sue is but a young girl; she is quick with her tongue and does not seem to think before she speaks. Young ones tend to do that, and although I believe she deserved what she got, you must show patience with her. Do not stoop to her level of rashness, Elenmírë. You are more than that." She looked up at Boromir silently, doubt still furrowing her brow.

"So you really think I reacted too suddenly?" she asked, her eyes large with vulnerability, seeking his face for a word of reassurance, and Legolas clenched his teeth to bite back the urge to run to them and throw Boromir off the bridge. His hands angrily gripped onto several acorns that lay on the forest floor beneath him, and a sudden idea burst into his head. Grinning mischievously, he waited patiently for the right moment to execute his plan.

"I think you reacted appropriately during the fight," Boromir answered slowly, careful with his words, "but maybe resigning from your position as her teacher might have been too impulsive. Teachers never give up on their students," he added wisely, and she bowed her head in shame.

"I know," she whispered softly, her eyes troubled. "But in all my years, I have never encountered one so rude, so unnerving! And what I don't understand is why everyone is falling over themselves over her! Like my brother Elrohir, or…Legolas…" Her voice trailed off, and she shook her head in confusion. But Legolas wanted nothing more than to reveal himself from his hiding place and yell at the top of his lungs that he cared nothing more for Mary Sue than friendship. Elenmírë sighed and continued. "I must admit, though, that I am jealous." She started, hearing the words finally spoken, and she looked at Boromir nervously.

"Worry not," he smiled, understanding her fear and taking her hand in his. "Your secret is safe with me, my Lady."

"Thank you, Boromir," she replied gratefully, bestowing a wide smile. "I cannot help it, though. She's beautiful and so perfect at everything she does, and it sickens me! It has taken me years to accomplish my skill with the sword, and I have had to endure long hours of training and sacrifice, and I've involuntarily given up my female identity in the process! And here waltzes in this excruciatingly perfect being who dazzles everyone with her charm and wit and beauty, and it makes me even more aware of my own blemishes, especially when she points them out herself! Can anyone really blame me for reacting so harshly? No one, maybe except for my family and my two dear hobbits, really sees me for who I am, Boromir." He cupped his hand under her chin and gently turned her face to look at him.

"Ah, Elenmírë, that is far from true," he whispered in reply, his sincere eyes gazing into hers. "I see you. Those who don't are just blind fools." His other hand reached over to stroke her cheek, and her eyes widened, a faint blush spread across her face. He leaned toward her, closing his eyes and she did the same, highly aware of the gentle caresses of his fingers on her face and of the sudden pounding of her heart. She could feel the heat radiating from him as he brought his face ever closer, knowing it would only be seconds before she would finally experience her first kiss. But it was not to be.

Boromir pulled back suddenly, and Elenmírë's eyes snapped open, hurt written plainly across her face. It quickly disappeared, however, when she saw him rubbing his forehead with one hand and holding an acorn in the other. "What's wrong, Boromir?" she questioned, eyeing the acorn in his hand. "Why is it you seem so fixated with that seedling?" He looked out across the landscape, his human eyes never detecting Legolas as he scanned the scenery.

"I do not know how it happened, but this acorn was thrown right at me," he explained, chuckling a bit at how ridiculous it sounded. Elenmírë lifted her hand and gently stroked the red spot that had appeared on his brow from where the acorn hit, and she deduced, judging from the redness of it, that it had been thrown hard.

"Poor Boromir," she mused, trying hard to hold her giggles back, "to be attacked so viciously by an acorn!" Soon his chuckles joined hers, and her highly sensitive ears picked up the rumbling of his stomach. They laughed even harder as they pulled themselves up from their sitting position and descended down from the bridge to head to the dining hall. Boromir instinctively caught hold of her hand as they walked abreast, and once again crimson colored her cheeks to match the spot on his forehead. Boromir smiled down at her, and she returned the favor, relishing in the happiness that his genuine affection for her brought.

Legolas lay low in his spot until they passed him, satisfied that his aim had been precise and that his throw had been hard enough to leave a mark, but he was fuming with envy and resentment that had he not discovered them, Boromir would have kissed her. _'Well, be thankful that you found them before it happened!'_ his mind scolded him, and a slight smirk tugged at his lips despite the anger he felt. It had felt wonderful to revert back to a childhood prank he used to play on the travelers in Mirkwood, and he would have chuckled out loud if he could've at the astonished look on Boromir's face the second the acorn had hit him. He knew he was going to tease Boromir relentlessly the minute he had the chance, hoping that the acorn hit hard enough to leave a scratch to last a few days. But at the moment, he wanted to follow them without being noticed and waited a few minutes before walking down the road. As he caught sight of the cedar, he hurried his steps, knowing that if he didn't track them quickly, he would soon lose them in the maze of the hallways.

"So you thought that was terribly clever, didn't you?" a voice called out from the branches of the cedar just as he walked passed, and Legolas jerked at the voice. Elenmírë leaped down swiftly, crossing her arms, as was her habit of late.

"Elenmírë!" he stuttered, giving her a lopsided, guilty grin. "What so ever do you mean?" Her eyes narrowed as she approached him.

"The acorn you threw at Boromir," she said plainly, her voice accusing. "What were you thinking, hiding in the bushes and throwing acorns at people like that? One would think you were still a hundred years of age!" She straightened up, trying to make her voice sound as uncaring as possible. "It seems keeping company with one so young as Mary Sue has greatly affected your mind."

"Mary Sue does not affect me," he said stiffly, crossing his own arms. "If Boromir was in fact with you, where has he gone to?"

"He wished to dine, and I did not." She pressed her lips to a line. "Why?" she questioned, raising an eyebrow. "Are you going to apologize to him?"

"I've done nothing wrong!" he defended, his eyes glowing. "Why should I apologize?"

"You've hit the man with an acorn!" she called out, looking at him in disbelief. Legolas's lips drew to a smirk, and finally spread into a full mischievous grin.

"That does sound rather funny," he admitted, chuckling. "If you find the person responsible, please do thank him for me for allowing me a light laugh." Elenmírë could not refrain herself from joining his chortle, and giggled herself, relaxing her arms and letting them hang lose to her sides.

"You are quite a silly elf, if chance permit it," she teased. "And besides, I know it was you. I saw your blond hair and those eyes of yours staring out from behind the foliage as we walked passed." She shook her head at him, smiling. "What gave you the urge to do such a thing? Did you suddenly decide, 'Oh, I'd very much like to find Boromir and hit him with an acorn?'" Legolas guffawed.

"No!" he denied, mirth filling his sapphire eyes. "Actually…I was looking for you." Her smile faded slowly, and she bit her lip, looking away.

"What for?" He waited patiently until their eyes locked, which they eventually did several seconds later. There was an anxiety in her eyes, and her hands where now twisting nervously in front of her.

"I-I…I wanted to tell you something," he said, stumbling over his words, suddenly feeling tense. "A-About this morning, when you looked up at the balcony-" She shook her head in protest and backed away from him to head to the hallways.

"No, Legolas," she called over her shoulder as she made her way to the terrace, and he hastily followed. "What happens between you and Mary Sue is not my business, and I felt as if I were intruding in a private moment, so if anything, I must apologize for not tearing my eyes away when I should have." She quickly walked down the corridor and steered to turn left into another one when Legolas reached out and grabbed her arm to stop her. She paused and turned her eyes to him, silently begging him not to say anymore. "Let me go, Legolas."

"No," he said firmly, and all resistance left her arm and her posture as she waited for him to speak, and he loosened his grip but he would not let her go. "You did nothing wrong," he began, "and what you thought you saw did not happen." She shook her head in confusion.

"No, you kissed her," she said softly. "I saw it, and I shouldn't have." He moved is hands to her shoulders before she could flee.

"No, Elenmírë, there was no kiss," he said, his azure eyes burning with honesty. "It almost happened, but it did not."

"Why did you not do what you wanted to?" she questioned, a frown burdening her lips as she tried to futilely shake her shoulders free.

"Do you not understand?" he asked, his voice growing intense. "It was not what I wanted!"

"Then what is it that you want, Legolas?" Elenmírë did not dare give into the hope that was jumping excitedly through her bones, for she did not want to place herself in a position of disappointment, for she had grown tiresome of it, especially now when it happened so frequently. Legolas took a deep breath, cupping her face in his hands.

"I wanted-"

"Arwenamin!" a voice called out from the corridor that Elenmírë had been heading to before Legolas had stopped her. He let her go as they turned to look at Annaril who seemed quite worried.

"What is it, Annaril?" Elenmírë cried out anxiously, noting the terrified look upon her face.

"Lord Elrond has been searching for you for nearly an hour," she exclaimed, "and I must say, my Lady, he is _not _happy. He could not figure out where you had fled to until he had questioned Boromir when he had walked into the dining hall." Annaril pressed her lips to a line. "Mary Sue has been in her chambers all day, moaning about the injuries that you inflicted on her this morning during the training session. Lord Elrond is quite displeased." Elenmírë felt herself drowning in dread, hating the inevitability of facing her father to explain the morning's activities. She turned back to Legolas, who also seemed affected by the news, and she bowed her head slightly in his direction. "It seems we must carry our conversation at a later time, Prince Legolas, for I am needed elsewhere." He nodded in compliance, watching her walk away with Annaril, moving closer and closer to deal with her father's anger, and he felt not only trepidation for what she had to face, but irritation at himself for not telling her everything when he had the chance.

* * *

TBC..  



	10. Chapter Nine: Under The Weeping Willows

**Disclaimer:** Everything Middle Earth belongs to Tolkien.

**Author's Note:** _01/17/06_ - Just a little minor editing here and there...it still feels weird to be writing '06 as the year. I can't believe it's been almost three years since I last touched this story.

**The Imperfect One**  
By: Goddess-Isis-112

**Chapter Nine: Under the Weeping Willows**

With each step toward Lord Elrond's private office, fear seeped through Elenmírë's veins, and she slowed when she neared the corridor where she knew he was waiting. "How angry is he, Annaril?" she asked her servant, pausing at the last few feet before his office. Annaril placed a reassuring hand on the Lady's shoulder, her voice gentle.

"Do not worry, arwenamin," she said softly. "What he must say is only out of love for you." That did not stop the dread from paralyzing her, and she found she had no control over her legs, and they remained firmly planted to the floor. Annaril gave her a gentle push forward, frowning. "His anger is not directed at only you alone, Elenmírë." Her head snapped as she twisted to look at her handmaiden.

"Who else did he wish to summon?" But Annaril had not the time to answer for Mary Sue was noticeably limping down the same corridor, pausing only when she saw Elenmírë standing there as well. Immediately, Elenmírë narrowed her eyes to glare at the girl who had her right arm in a sling as if she had broken it, but Elenmírë could not help but be pleased with herself at the bruised eye she had given her. She had hit Mary Sue so hard that her face now appeared lopsided, the swelling of the right side of her face purple and puffy.

"What are you doing here?" Mary Sue demanded, trying unsuccessfully to flip her long, jet-black hair out of her face with her left hand.

"My father wishes to see me," Elenmírë said flatly, scrutinizing the sling. "Why do you wear such a thing? I merely gave you a scratch, not a broken arm!" Mary Sue radically replaced the bitterness in her eyes to that of self-pity as she cast her gaze to her right arm.

"You do not know the pain I must endure," she muttered so dramatically that even Annaril rolled her eyes.

"I've suffered far worse," Elenmírë scoffed. "I cannot believe that the One would be someone as pathetic as you! It makes absolutely no sense when you can hardly handle a tiny nick!" Mary Sue straightened up indignantly.

"Well, I never!" she exclaimed. "You really are a jealous person to want to destroy something as beautiful as…well, as me!" She gave her a nasty smirk. "I'm not as stupid as you think I am; I see the way you look at Legolas, El, so I can only understand why you'd want to hurt me, but no matter what you do, who's going to be the one with him in the end? He's perfect, and he deserves no less than that." She looked disdainfully at Elenmírë the way she had when they had first seen each other in the woods, and Elenmírë knew better than to listen to her words, but Mary Sue had hit a nerve the moment she mentioned Legolas, and the anger that had never fully died down was again alive with fervor. "You may be able to beat me down with a sword, but I assure you that you won't win in the end with Legolas. Can you honestly look at yourself, El, and think that he'd want _you_?" Elenmírë was momentarily petrified, knowing that in her heart, she could not confidently answer _yes_, and Mary Sue smiled even more evilly at the hesitation on Elenmírë's face. "It's already been prophesized, El. Legolas and I will be together, and if you accept it right now, then maybe your foretold broken heart will heal much sooner."

"I have heard enough from your blistered tongue!" Annaril cried out loudly, far more furious than Elenmírë had ever seen her. "If the Lady had not yet slashed you with her sword, I would grab it myself and do the same damage!" She took a threatening step toward Mary Sue, pointing her finger accusingly. "You have no right to utter such words of disrespect to her, do you understand?"

"Silence!" a voice boomed just further down the hall, and Lord Elrond approached the three of them slowly, his anger so tangible, it filled the air and nearly choked them. He lowered his voice, but Elenmírë knew that his rage grew no less. "Elenmírë, Mary Sue, you will both come with me to my office. And Annaril, please attend to our other guests until I have finished speaking with the both of them." Annaril bowed slightly and shot Elenmírë a look of apology before fleeing to follow his commands.

They entered the room silently, never uttering a word, afraid to upset The Lord of Rivendell even more. He gestured for them to sit in the two chairs in front of him as he stood with his arms crossed, his eyes fiery. "I have no words to express exactly how disappointed I am with the both of you," he began, keeping his voice level. "You know that the peace of Middle Earth depends entirely on the cooperation between the Fellowship and the One, and with both of your childish antics, you two jeopardize the lives of all the Free Peoples of Middle Earth!" He focused his gaze on Elenmírë, and she squirmed under his glare, too ashamed to look up into his face. "Elenmírë, as my daughter and as the Second Captain of the Guard, I relied on you to take Mary Sue under your wing as your apprentice. The day has not yet passed, and here she is before me, injured, not from training, but from the interference of your personal loathing for her!" With her excellent peripheral vision, Elenmírë saw Mary Sue smirk merrily at the scolding. "Have I taught you nothing, Elenmírë?" Tears burned underneath her lids, but she refused to allow herself to shed her tears in Mary Sue's presence, not like that. It was killing her to hear the disappointment in his voice, knowing that she was the reason it was there in the first place. "I trusted you to know better, for you have the wisdom of the many years our People are blessed with."

"I am sorry, father," she managed to let out just above a whisper, but her voice was strangled, and she could say no more for fear of erupting into tears.

"And you, Mary Sue," he addressed, turning his steely gaze to hers so quickly she froze like a deer. "I have welcomed you into my realm with open arms, and I have shown nothing less of kindness to you. Yet, you have disrespected not only my daughter, but the whole of Middle Earth!"

"How did I do that?" she gasped in disbelief in his words. "I've never done anything to-"

"Yes, you have," he cut in icily, clenching his teeth. "I have it on good account that you were heard threatening to decline from this mission, which you readily accepted but yesterday, knowing that the fate of all who live in these lands lies within you. To so nonchalantly discard any thought to those who are in most need of your help is to join the Dark Lord himself in the Land of Mordor!" She shook her head in denial, her eyes as wide as saucers.

"No, Lord Elrond!" she cried out piteously, "I'm not evil like-"

"Quiet!" he shouted, his eyes glowing. "It is in both your destinies to see that this Prophecy is fulfilled, and I will not hear another word of complaint from either of you. As I had said at the Council, you will unite or you will fall. What will it be?" He fell into silence as he stared at the two females, both of whom were motionless in their chairs and deep in thought.

"I will do what I must to save our home, father," Elenmírë finally whispered, "and I shall put my petty aversions aside."

"Yeah, whatever she said," Mary Sue muttered in agreement.

"Now, I will hear no more of cancelled training sessions, nor will I hear of anymore fights over Legolas," Elrond stated with a tone of finality. "There are more important things at risk than competing for the heart of the Prince of Mirkwood. Thank the Valar that he has not yet gone crazy from the combined pressure from the mission ahead and from the rivalry between the two of you for his affections." Mary Sue turned away, hiding her burning cheeks under her long, silky hair, but Elenmírë looked up into her father's face with painful determination.

"He is not mine to have," Elenmírë said fiercely, a lone tear escaping down her cheek. "The Prophecy has written its intentions clearly, and I will do nothing to prevent it from its fulfillment. Preserving the safety of Middle Earth is more imperative to me than satisfying the wishful longings of my own heart." Elrond's stern expression slowly melted into one of compassion as he looked down at her, and the anger he had been feeling for her was slowly ebbing away.

He looked to Mary Sue, and with a tone of definiteness, he declared, "You are dismissed, Mary Sue, and I expect you to meet with Elenmírë early tomorrow morning for your training, with punctuality in mind." She nodded as she sprinted out of the room, her earlier limp now forgotten. Elenmírë got up unsteadily, wavering before her father embraced her hard. His familiar scent of birch trees and grass filled her nostrils, throwing her into a state of nostalgia, and she clutched to him desperately like the tiny, orphaned elf she once was. It had been years since she felt so small, so unprotected, and she wanted nothing more than to frolic back into the safety Elrond had surrounded her in the moment he adopted her as one of his own. Remorse pervaded her entire being for repaying the kind Elf with nothing but displeasure at her actions.

"Father, I am so sorry I disappointed you," she choked out, sobbing into his shoulder. "Maybe it is my human side that makes me so impulsive!"

"Ah, Elenmírë," he whispered sadly, "why must you detest the human blood that runs within you?"

"Because it has made me into such a deformed Elf!" she cried out. "You, father, are Half-Elven, but you are as beautiful to behold as pureblood Firstborns, not only physically, but with wisdom and knowledge as well! Why is it that I was cursed with this awkward, graceless body and hideous face? I am weak, and there is not even enough strength in me to ignore even the tiniest insults from a worthless girl! I do not understand at all."

"You are not what you say you are!" he said angrily, slightly shaking her. "Do you not see that you must believe in yourself, Elenmírë? Care not what others, like Mary Sue, say! There is beauty within your soul, my dear, but only you can free that beauty from the restraints of insecurity that hold it buried deep inside." He sighed. "You have the capability for greatness, if only you allow yourself to trust yourself. I do not know what other advice I can give to you, young one, for I cannot command your mind to believe me. Only you can do that now." He grew quiet for several moments as she quieted her sobs before speaking again. "There are those who see past that visage you hide under."

"You mean Boromir." Her cheeks colored at the thought of him, hating herself for allowing Legolas to interfere with what had the potential to be a beautiful relationship.

"Yes," Elrond confirmed, clearing his throat. "So you must see that there are those who look for more than a pretty face, and if Legolas cannot see that, then he deserves someone like Mary Sue." Elenmírë smiled softly, sadness tugging at the corners of her lips.

"You are right, though it hurts to hear the words spoken," she replied and sighed deeply before detaching herself from his arms. "Diola lle, Ada. (_Thank you, father.)_ I needed to be scolded. My mind has traveled back into its rightful place from out of the clouds." He kissed her forehead before she moved to leave.

"Now, my dear, go to the one who can bring you happiness," he said, his eyes lighting up when her cheeks maintained their rosy color from the earlier mention of Boromir's name. The light around her grew a bit, hovering around her head like a faint halo.

"As you wish," she smiled before leaving his office, and headed straight to the dining hall where she hoped he still was. Upon entering, she was 'attacked' by Merry and Pippin, who pulled and tugged at her arms to lead her to their circular table, where, to her surprise, Sam, Frodo, and Boromir also sat.

"Merry and Pippin were on their feet before I could even react," Boromir laughed in greeting. She sat down next to him while the two hobbits argued who would sit on her other side with Merry finally winning the battle. He smiled smugly as Pippin grumbled, seating himself on Merry's other side, next to Sam, who eyed each of them suspiciously, especially Boromir. Granted, Boromir was acting strangely, his face switching from tension to laughter and back again, particularly when his eyes landed on Frodo, but Elenmírë, too, felt strange urges to glance at Frodo every now and then as the hobbits ate heartily.

"Elenmírë," a voice hissed so softly that only her Elven ears could hear it, and the innate babble of the hobbits hardly made sense to her as she focused her attention on Frodo. The voice grew louder in her ears, but she would be pulled back to reality with a loud comment here and there accompanied by an occasional fit of laughter. Her mind was starting to fall into confusion, and she knew she had to leave before the yearnings to hold the One Ring consumed her.

"Merry, Pip, I am sorry, but I have other duties I must attend to," she lied and immediately hated deceiving her friends. She needed to distance herself for the time being from anyone, especially after the emotional breakdown that she had just fallen victim to in her father's office, and she did not want to be so vulnerable in the presence of the Ringbearer.

"Oi! but you will miss Afternoon Tea!" Pippin protested, his eyes pleading for her to stay in their company.

"I will join you later, my friends," she assured them as she stood, and as Merry and Pippin nodded in acceptance, Boromir got up as well.

"I shall escort the Lady to where she is needed," he proclaimed, and a tiny tinge of irritation assailed her at his proclamation, but she said nothing, waving to the Hobbits as they took their leave. Sam and Frodo both looked up apprehensively at Boromir and Elenmírë before bidding them farewell, and Frodo's haunting eyes caught hers knowingly. She looked away guiltily, rushing out of the dining hall as quickly as she could. They did not stop walking until they were clearly a ways from the commons, and they found themselves in front of another secluded bridge, and with a start, Elenmírë recognized it as the one that she had spotted Arwen and Aragorn on many, many, long years ago when she had discovered the truth of their relationship.

"Elenmírë?" Boromir asked tentatively. "Why did you have such a sudden urge to leave? You had just arrived, and my heart had gladdened to see that you were well. Merry and Pippin would speak of nothing else but of the Shire and of you." She smiled softly at him as they carefully walked over the bridge, staring down into their reflections in the placid stream. Lily pads graced its surface, and like a number of the other gardens of Rivendell, moss-covered rocks and white and red water lilies adorned the water's edge. The trees that surrounded them consisted of one giant sycamore along with weeping willows, whose branches reached low to gently touch the strands of their hair. The smell of the falling leaves and the rushing water was enough to remind them that autumn was fully upon them.

"Did you not feel it?" she asked, sorrow lining her voice. Boromir understood immediately, his face growing grim, and he inhaled deeply before letting out a sigh, and turning to face her, he nodded.

"I feel it gnawing at my very soul," he admitted in a whisper. "Its evil powers are undeniably strong, and I fear for the hobbit. Frodo is inexperienced with such evil, and I worry." Their hands found the each others and clasped, their fingers intertwining.

"That is why I left," she confided, now lifting her gaze to his. "It was calling to me, Boromir. I heard it whispering my name, and I longed to reach to Frodo for it. Especially after an emotionally draining talk with my father, the Ring must have sensed my susceptibility at that moment and called to me." Her voice lowered. "I cannot trust myself in Frodo's presence." Boromir lifted her hand to his lips, and placed a gentle kiss on her palm, his eyes never leaving hers. The sensation of his surprisingly soft lips tenderly brushing her hand brought a blush to her cheeks, and she smiled foolishly, despite the difficult subject at hand.

"I understand, my Lady, for I feel the same," he said softly, his eyes warming with affection. "But, I must confess, when I am in your company, I feel as if I can avoid its evil clutches for a while. I-I feel that you can give me the strength, Elenmírë, to evade its call." His words touched her deeper than any she had heard before, and she could scarcely believe he was directing those sweet words to her and not running away in the opposite direction, but…for some reason it did not seem right to be with Boromir, and she angrily blamed Legolas for ever showing up in Rivendell. Had he not appeared, her feelings for Boromir would not be so tinged with guilt, and, she realized, Mary Sue would not have been included in the whole ordeal for Legolas was the one to bring her. Her bitterness grew for the Elven Prince of Mirkwood, despising him for being the one she could not have and for bringing the epitome of beauty that was Mary Sue to torture her already damaged self-esteem. Her loathing was its greatest at the thought that he had polluted her ability to look favorably upon another without him entering her mind, and she wanted to rant at the unfairness of it all, especially when one as kind and as compassionate as Boromir deserved her undivided attention.

Boromir's fingers were gently stroking her cheek, and she was once again quickly drawn out of her thoughts. Her heart was mercilessly beyond her control now, noting how close he had become, the lines of his face stretched with worry. His eyes pleaded with hers, but she knew not why until he spoke again. "If my words displease you, I mean not to bother you further of the longings of my heart, Elenmírë," he sadly whispered, and she finally became aware of her facial features, silently cursing Legolas for triggering the frown that had manipulated her lips. She instantly relaxed her expression, and shook her head. _'Curse you, Legolas for controlling my thoughts!'_ she wanted to yell.

"No, Boromir, you misunderstand me," she quickly explained, her trembling hand reaching out to sweep the hair out of his eyes. "I-I…I-I have n-no experience in this at all," she stuttered, "and I do not know exactly how to handle this. It is not as if I have a line of bachelors waiting to court me, and never have I ever expected one to even glance my way. I-I am r-rather baffled that you would spend your time with me, out of all the maidens that you could chose from. Those who are far more beautiful-"

"But you are beautiful as well, Elenmírë," he injected, wonder crossing his face, and her jaw dropped slightly. "Do you not see it?"

"What?" she asked blankly, disbelieving the fact that he had used the word 'beautiful' to describe her. "Me? With my bushy hair, and this horrible nose, and this unpleasant bulge in my belly-" He roared with laughter and shook his head, and even she had to crack a smile at how ridiculous she sounded. Had she always sounded that way?

"You must be the only one to see such things," he managed to say after his laughter died down. "You are beautiful to me, my Lady, both inside and out, and nothing you say can change my mind on that matter."

"Well," she said stiffly, "you must be the only one to think such things. Those of the Guard of the Rivendell see naught but a bulky, bossy second Captain." Suddenly a greedy possessiveness claimed the look in his eyes, and he grinned.

"Good," he laughed, "because I do no plan on sharing you." Her eyes grew wide at the intense desire that now lit his face the same way it had when they had argued at the Council, and she could not help but marvel at the thought that she was what he wanted. _'So is this what it is like?'_ she idly wondered, tears suddenly forming behind her eyes from joy, but she did not cry. She became frightfully aware of the pounding of her heart drowning her ears as Boromir pulled her near, closing the distance between them, and she knew without a doubt that he was going to kiss her.

"I hope there are no squirrels here that plan on attacking you with acorns," she whispered dryly as her grey eyes filled with mirth, and he chuckled as he brought his face down to hers, his lips lightly brushing hers, yet not claiming them just yet.

"If there are, I shall not let them bother me this time around," he answered mischievously, and she closed her eyes and his lips captured hers completely, keeping their first kiss chaste, but sweet. He hesitated a moment and she opened her eyes to nod at him. He brought his lips down to hers again, this time deepening their kiss, gently sucking on her lower lip as his tongue traced the lining of it, prodding her mouth for entrance. She complied and was greeted by his tongue gently caressing hers before dueling feverishly, and the friction sent shivers up her spine and through her entire body. She became acutely aware of the tightening of his arms around her waist, and her own hands were entangled in his hair, delighting in the silky smoothness and thickness of it. Her fingers tingled as she brushed them through his strands, and she thought of the injustice of waiting for more than a millennia to experience such a feeling. Boromir reluctantly ended their fiery kiss, and she uttered a small cry of protest, earning one of his wonderful chuckles.

"I see the Lady wants more," he teased, and she playfully swatted his arm. "I would relent, but I need a chance to catch my breath!"

"Oh, you humans are so frail!" she shot out in frustration, but he took no heed of it as he enveloped her in his arms, his fingers joining hers as he hugged her around her waist, and she sighed with contentment, leaning back into him. His lips pressed against her hair, and he inhaled the faint scent of wildflowers emitting from her tresses. How she ever managed to call her sleek hair 'bushy' was beyond him, and the supposed 'bulge' of her belly was hardly there, now that he could try to feel for it with his arms around her. The She-Elf's degradation of herself surprised him for he saw none of the flaws she spoke of, and he made a mental note to confront Mary Sue for ever causing Elenmírë to think she was less than what she really was. He felt so protective of her, and he knew he did not want another person to take her away from him.

Though, that posed a problem for a certain Elf who was hidden once again in the thick branches and leaves of the overgrown sycamore, this time without acorns at hand for him to throw. The couple had appeared before him unexpectedly as he had been laying lazily in the tree, watching the clouds drift in beautiful harmony in the sky, and he had intently heard every single word of their conversation. Legolas wanted to throttle the Man of Gondor, but he could not deny the happiness that played upon the Lady's features. _'What if the Prophecy was meant for Boromir and Elenmírë?'_ he thought, and suddenly, it took on a new light. What if he was the one meant to have the broken heart? "Ai!" he cried out softly at the revelation. The tree whispered words of comfort to the Elf, none of which calmed his nerves, and not knowing what he was about to do, he leaped out of his hiding spot, startling the two on the bridge.

* * *

TBC.  



	11. Chapter Ten: Call Me Selfish

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing.

**Author's Note:** _01/17/06_ - Minor changes in grammer and such.

**The Imperfect One**  
By: Goddess-Isis-112

**Chapter Ten: Call Me Selfish…**

Boromir and Elenmírë froze as Legolas approached them, his face neutral, but inside, a whirlwind of emotions stormed within him, and he knew not what he felt. "Ah, so I see that this is a new development," he offered as they stood silent, and Boromir, who did not take note of the sarcasm in his voice, chuckled and nodded slightly.

"Yes, Legolas, this is," he answered, his eyes twinkling with happiness, succeeding in angering the jealous Elf even more. Elenmírë was quiet in Boromir's arms, her eyes raging indigo at him, challenging him to make another snide comment.

"If you do not mind, Legolas, you are interrupting," she stated bluntly, her voice cold. "I might suggest finding your love, Mary Sue, if you are in dire need of entertainment at the moment, for I do not desire another to witness this very private interlude between Boromir and myself." Legolas flinched quickly at the obvious hostility in her manner, but he quickly composed himself.

"To inform you, my Lady, Mary Sue is not my 'love,' as you call her," he declared indignantly, and Elenmírë raised an amused eyebrow at him.

"Is that so, my Lord?" she answered with mock interest. "If I do recall correctly from this morning's affair, you did inform us all that she was important to you in more ways than one, obviously implying that the two of you were lovers. The kiss I happened to observe between the two of you also suggest the former." She shrugged. "You puzzle me with your contradictions." Legolas gave a low growl, his eyes quickly becoming menacing, and Boromir felt Elenmírë tense in his arms. He gave her reassuring squeeze to ease her back into her relaxed position, but she remained stiff.

"Contradictions, my Lady?" Legolas asked, faking sweetness. "If _I_ recall correctly, you do have an obvious dislike for humans, especially Mary Sue, but there you are in the arms of one! You are a contradiction yourself, Elenmírë." Boromir cleared his throat, hating the denigrating connotation in reference to humans, and he knew that Elenmírë did not truly hate those of the Line of Men; she only hated one in particular for her annoying perfection, but she covered up her loathing with the visage of detesting all humans.

"That is not fair, Legolas," he stated calmly, "for you do not understand the Lady's mind and what she means by her words-"

"And you do, Boromir?" Legolas shot out coolly. "You yourself have only known Elenmírë for several days." Elenmírë broke free from Boromir's hold, and she approached the Elven Prince, folding her arms tightly across her chest.

"What is it that you want, Legolas?" she finally snapped, her voice raising a decibel. A fear rose in her throat when a gleam of jest flashed across his cerulean eyes, and he gave a shadow of a smile.

"You have already asked me that question today, my Lady, before I had the chance to tell you," he said, his voice softening a bit. "Are you sure you want me to answer you in front of the Man of Gondor?" Elenmírë felt Boromir approach from behind her, and he looked curiously from Legolas to Elenmírë before settling his gaze on Legolas.

"Why would you not want to say it in front of me?" he asked slowly, and Legolas silently cheered. Nothing was going to prevent him this time, he thought determinedly. _'Holy Valar, let this be my chance to say it!'_ he prayed inwardly. _'Let her decide now who she wants.'_ Legolas took a breath and began, ignoring the worry that covered Elenmírë's face.

"You can call me selfish, Elenmírë but all I want is-" The Valar had obviously heard enough of Legolas's meddling, for a musical cry lifted into the air, sounding much like that of the nightingale, and into the garden gracefully bounced the object of Elenmírë's disgust, Mary Sue.

"Oh, Legolas, there you are!" she cried out happily, completely ignoring the other two who stood beside him. "I've been looking for you ever since I left Elrond's office and-"

"Mary Sue, please, not now," Legolas practically begged, swearing underneath his breath at another fouled attempt to speak his heart. "We shall converse later-"

"B-but I've been waiting the whole day to really get to speak with you alone, and now that I've found you, I just…" Her voice faded away as a tear trekked slowly down her bruised cheek, and although her face was now lopsided from her injuries, the sunlight sparkled off her lengthy jet-black hair, tinting it a dark violet to match her wondrous eyes, complementing her. Unlike in the dark corridor that she and Elenmírë had exchanged their hostile words, the sunlight seemed to conceal the ugliness of her temporarily tarnished face, and once again, a beauty radiated from her. The tears that had found their way down the curves of her face glistened like tiny cuts of diamonds, and the two males found themselves breathless at the sight of her, much to Elenmírë's utter dismay. A quick tug on Boromir's hand brought him back into focus, and he looked down apologetically at Elenmírë when she scowled at him.

"Please, there's no need to cry, Mary Sue," Legolas said, surprised that his voice was tender when addressing her. _'Damn,'_ he thought. _'Why must she be so pleasing to the eye?'_

"Yes, Mary Sue," Elenmírë found herself saying in agreement. Her voice sounded rather congenial and foreign to her ears, but she saw this as the only chance for her to escape before Legolas could say something to ruin her newly established relationship with Boromir. "Boromir and I were just leaving, so Legolas is free for the time being." Mary Sue gaped at the She-Elf in disbelief, never deeming it possible to have her civil words directed at _her_. Legolas looked helplessly between the two females, now completely at loss as to what to say or what to do to get himself out of another tiring moment with Mary Sue.

"Is this a joke?" she choked out, wiping her tears away, glancing down at the clasped hands of Boromir and Elenmírë, and she shook her head in confusion. "Wait…do you mean to tell me, that _you_…and _Boromir_…?"

"It is encouraging to see that your skills in deduction are far better than your skills in fighting, young one," Elenmírë answered wryly, smirking. But Mary Sue cared not for her sarcasm nor for the fact that Elenmírë had unwittingly given Mary Sue somewhat of a compliment; her mind focused only on one person alone: Legolas. A smile consumed her lips, and she grinned widely, feeling much more confident that because Elenmírë now was with Boromir, Legolas was all hers for the taking.

However, he groaned inwardly, cursing both Elenmírë and Mary Sue for toying with him when he had far more important subjects to think about, but he watched dejectedly as Elenmírë and Boromir bid them farewell. They walked back into the House of Elrond, hand in hand, laughing merrily at some sort of private joke.

"Aren't you happy for them!" Mary Sue squealed giddily. "I honestly don't know how he can stand her, but I guess he puts her in some sort of good mood or whatever. That was like the first time she ever talked to me without totally insulting me." She craned her neck to look at Legolas. "What's wrong? You look so stern." He shook his head and attempted to walk away from her, but she would not let him leave so easily. "Legolas, stop." He paused at her words, but did not bother to face her.

"I am in a rather irritable mood," he explained hastily.

"Well, so am I!" she cried out, placing both her hands on her hips, her right arm now free of the sling. She had decided to free herself of it, especially after the meeting with Elrond. There was no way she would try to do anything to annoy him ever again, if she could help it. "You have no right to treat me this way, as if I am some sort of bother to you." There was a slight tremble in her voice, and he turned around, surprised to see her confidence leaking out of her. She looked rather insecure now, her eyes not meeting his. "If you really don't want to spend time talking to me, then why don't you just tell me instead of pretending otherwise?" Her shoulders shook visibly this time, as if she were trying to hold in her tears.

"Mary Sue…" He could find no other words to say, feeling slightly helpless now that he knew she was not as oblivious as he thought she was. He did not want to hurt her, nor did he want to hurt anybody, but seeing this exposed side of her, a side she never really expressed to anyone, made him feel even more guilty for trying to deceive her. He sighed in resignation. Now that she had fully caught on to him, he had better tell her the truth. "You do have a right to know, and it was insensitive of me to carry on as if you would not notice."

"So you'll tell me then." The tears fell, but she did not bother to wipe them from her face. Instead, she kept her gaze steady, waiting for his inevitable rejection. He was secretly surprised at the strength she showed, and a seed of doubt wheedled its way into his mind. Was he making a mistake in trying to pursue Elenmírë, who obviously had no interest in him, now that she had Boromir? Was there some other side to Mary Sue that, perhaps, he had overlooked in his hastiness to captivate the untouchable she-elf? The longer he studied the girl in front of him, the more his doubts increased, and he hesitated a moment before speaking his mind to her. Oh, he was terribly confused! Even after almost three thousand years, females, no matter what race, were still a mystery to him.

"Yes," he answered slowly. She closed her eyes a moment before opening them, bracing herself for the words she was sure were going to hurt her. "Mary Sue, I know your opinions of me are rather kind, but I feel as if…" He struggled with his words. "You do not know who I am, young one, and yet you…_fling_…yourself at me at rather awkward situations. I am quite flattered by your attentions, but you do not know me, and I do not know you. Yes, our conversations are pleasant enough, but they are far from profound. You have not shared one personal aspect of your life with me, Mary Sue, and I have yet to do the same. We are only friends, and that is as much as I am comfortable with-"

"Don't try to appease me with your fancy words, Legolas," she cut in evenly, her tone steady. The tears had stopped flowing, yet streaks remained on her cheeks. "It is because of Elenmírë, isn't it?" His eyes widened, and he could not form words, confirming her suspicions. She nodded and closed her eyes briefly, a spasm of pain distorting her facial expression, but it was quickly gone. "I don't understand why everyone is so into her!"

Legolas raised his eyebrows. "Excuse me?" It wasn't really possible that Mary Sue could be jealous over Elenmírë, was it? At the banquet a few nights before, he had only thought Mary Sue to speak such words out of anger, but today…there was something different in her voice. He also remembered Elenmírë's earlier words when she had voiced her worries to Boromir, and it puzzled him to hear an almost identical tone coming from Mary Sue. She glared at him, bitterness filling her eyes.

"I said, I don't understand why you and everyone else in this fucking town is so obsessed with her!" she spat, her voice raising slightly. "I mean, everyone is always on her side! You, Boromir, Lord Elrond, the hobbits-"

"Are you jealous?" he asked in disbelief. Mary Sue stiffened and looked down at her feet, as if they had suddenly become her newest obsession.

"How can _I_ be jealous of someone as ugly like her?" she asked, her voice low, but there was a lack of certainty in her tone, almost as if she were trying to convince herself. "She's so masculine in her tunic and leggings, and she's barbaric when she fights…so why should I be jealous of someone like that?" She looked up defiantly, flipping her lustrous locks over her shoulder. "I mean, I'm at least good-looking, and I'm…I'm-" The words caught in her throat as she choked back a sob. "No one cares about me, Legolas." The confession caught him off guard, and all he could do was gape at the girl.

"What?" he asked rather stupidly, unsure of what else to say. She looked up, both her pride and dignity injured, and it showed on her face and in the way she stood. Gone was the confident look of superiority. Gone was the proud stance. Left standing in front of him was someone he was seeing for the first time: a lonely, apprehensive young woman.

"No one cares about me, Legolas," she repeated, her eyes downcast. "What I mean to say was, I was scared when I first appeared near Mirkwood. I didn't know where I was, why I was brought here, or who the heck you were, and you didn't help when you kept that arrow pointed at me. Why do you think I put up a mask? I had to protect myself one way or another."

"You wore no such mask when I found you," he commented, his brow furrowing in confusion. She sighed.

"It was a figure of speech, Legolas," she stated simply. "I had to appear confident. I didn't want anyone to think that I was some sort of a coward-"

"But you shrank away in fear when Elenmírë confronted you in the woods," he pointed out insensitively, and she flinched at his choice of words.

"Well, what do you think females do all the time?" she asked. "We compare ourselves to each other, if you hadn't caught on by now! Of course, at first glance Elenmírë wasn't totally pretty, but it was your attention to her that made me sneer at her the way I did that first time. And she totally took it the wrong way." She sank down at the trunk of the sycamore, burying her face in her hands. "I can't believe I'm telling you all this." Legolas sat down next to her and placed a comforting hand on her shoulder.

"Well, I must admit, it is much more appealing to have you confide in me as you would a friend instead of trying to attack me as if I were piece of red meat you have been craving for," he answered dryly, and she blushed slightly.

"I'm sorry," she apologized quietly. "It doesn't help that you are a beautiful creature, Legolas. You can't totally blame me for being selfish when it comes to you." He fell silent, surprised at her bluntness and at her choice of words, knowing that that was exactly what he had wanted to say to Elenmírë.

"Is that why you've been avoiding me?" she questioned, lifting her violet eyes to look into his, and she tilted her head in curiosity. "Because I was too eager?"

"To be honest with you, yes," he confirmed, nodding. "It would help just a bit if you were not so…aggressive." He shuddered as he remembered the numerous banquets and balls his father, King Thranduil, had arranged in their home in Northern Mirkwood. Not once could Legolas get through the night without one or two females following his every move, and he could not stand their overly inviting glances. Mary Sue studied his face and gave a hint of a smile.

"I take it, by the look on your face, that I'm not the only one in this place who's tried to pursue you before," she smirked, and he gave a slight nod.

"Affirmative," he answered. "Although it is highly amusing, I cannot help but feel…_trapped _when such things occur. So I must also ask for your pardon on my actions of the past few days, for not voicing my objections before. It was not fair to myself, nor was it fair to you." She also nodded, and for the first time, she bestowed on him a radiant smile, one full of sincerity.

"Can we start over again, Legolas?" she asked shyly. "I would very much like to establish a friendship with you, and I promise not to jump you…not yet anyway." He chuckled.

"Of course," he approved, giving her a smile of his own. "I am quite happy that we had this discussion. Besides, if we are to travel together on this journey, it would be much easier to get along with you than to avoid you."

"I couldn't agree more!" she laughed. She stuck out her hand to him. "Truce?" He grinned as he took hold of it and shook it.

"Truce."

* * *

tbc  



	12. Chapter Eleven: Dilemma

**Disclaimer**: Previous disclaimers apply to this chapter as well as to the rest of the story.

**Author's Note**: Hehe, I actually read my story over again on and I realized, wow, the whole thing happened in a matter of a few days! So in this chapter, two months have now passed, so I can get them to hurry to their journey LOL. I think the next few chapter will pay more attention to the action and adventure part This chapter was inspired by Nelly's song 'Dilemma' featuring Kelly Rowland from Destiny's Child.

_01/17/06_ - Yes, I've noticed that when I get caught up in the romantic parts of the story, I totally forget all else. I'll try to keep the actual LOTR story in mind in the 2nd part of this story.

The Imperfect One

By: Goddess-Isis-112

Chapter Eleven: Dilemma

Elenmírë sat with her back against the bark of a sturdy elm in the clearing where she and Mary Sue had been training together every morning for the past two months. Boromir and Legolas, of course, watched and assisted in every lesson, but Mary Sue, being the near perfect girl that she was, had become an expert in sword fighting and nearly surpassed Elenmírë in her skill…almost, but not quite. Elenmírë, after all, did have thousands of years of experience, but Mary Sue was still one who could challenge any of the Guard of Rivendell, save Elrohir and Elladan, since she had not the chance to duel with them for they were still preoccupied with their own mission these past two months.

That morning's training was no different, and Elenmírë sighed in resignation. Mary Sue was sure to surpass her skill soon, and she knew it was inevitable. They had been civil with each other throughout the training within the two months, but Elenmírë found all ways possible to avoid the girl when not instructing her, especially now that Legolas and Mary Sue had become inseparable since the day Boromir and Elenmírë had left them in the garden under the sycamore. Yes, she was happy with Boromir, and he with her, but…Elenmírë knew that a part of her would always long for Legolas, and she shook her head in disgust with herself. She had finally found someone who actually _loved _her for who she was, with flaws and all (he had whispered the words to her but three nights ago, and she readily reciprocated them as well), and she had spent nearly all her life looking for that. But she found it repulsive that no matter how much she had grown to love Boromir, Legolas still had custody of her heart in some way.

She looked to her left where Boromir was sitting quietly beside her, with her hand in his as he closed his eyes in contentment, letting out a sigh of relief that the training was over for the day, and her heart did flutter at the sight of him, but…there was something missing, and she knew it. She turned her attention back to the couple that had proceeded to leave the clearing as soon as Elenmírë had dismissed them for the day.

Mary Sue clung to Legolas's arm as they headed toward their separate rooms to prepare for tonight's dinner, and their laughter reached her Elven ears, reverberating and slicing into her consciousness. Elenmírë envied them for appearing so cheerful together, but at the same time, it gave her joy to see Legolas's face light up with happiness. She hated herself for being so torn, so confused, when she knew she had every right to be just as happy as they, with Boromir by her side. She frowned. She had thought that by being with Boromir, Legolas would fade from her thoughts, but the opposite was true. Each and every day, Legolas consumed her mind and forever lingered there, stubbornly torturing her with his image, his soft words, his loving glances, slowly driving her mad.

She felt herself being pulled gently into a warm embrace, and she looked up into Boromir's tender eyes, before he leaned down and lovingly brushed his lips against hers. She shivered, and he tightened his arms around her, softly rocking her. She found her fingers caressing the smooth exterior of his cheek as he deepened their kiss, his lips and tongue tasting her, drinking her in. His warm breath comforted her from her disturbing thoughts, and she felt herself drowning in his scent of elm and birch. Yes, she loved Boromir; there was no doubt, and although Legolas still remained in her heart somewhere, insisting and pursuing her relentlessly, Boromir always knew the right way to remind her of his love for her and knew how to ignite the flame of her love for him as well.

"My dearest heart," he whispered when his lips finally left hers, and she smiled at the endearment. They merely sat there for several peaceful moments, staring into each other's eyes before his clouded over somewhat, and she felt the tremble in his arms.

"What is it, love?" she asked, concern worrying her brow. She played with several strands of his silky hair through her fingertips, waiting for his answer. Studying his fair face, she felt all her defenses weaken somewhat; Boromir was a beautiful being inside and out, and she could not believe that out of all maidens, he had chosen her. She did not feel worthy of his love, but felt lucky all the same that she was its recipient.

"I cannot help but think of the future, no matter how bleak it seems," he murmured softly. "When I gaze into your eyes, there is no other desire in my heart stronger than the one of bringing you with me to Minas Tirith, but it seems so far and out of reach." His melancholia of late had been disquieting, and Elenmírë started at his words. _'He wants me to go home with him?'_ she thought, panic settling in for a moment. _'Why had he not said anything before?'_ She managed to keep her breath steady as she contemplated over the meaning behind his words. Did he want her as his wife? After two months of courting, she should have given at least a thought to the possibility, but she was still reeling from the fact that someone actually loved her and marriage was far beyond her comprehension at the moment. Could she spend her life with Boromir by her side as her husband? And if she could, she was still Half-Elven, but because she was not truly of Lord Elrond's line, would she be able to have the chance to chose between her immortal life and the life of Men? A sudden realization came over her as these thoughts raced through her head in the mere seconds of silence she had before she could give him a comforting reply: Yes, she would marry him if given the chance. Even if her heart did belong to Legolas, he surely did not want her when he had Mary Sue, and Boromir was a noble man who would be a wonderful husband to her. Shaking out of her thoughts, she clung to Boromir, forcing all images of Legolas out of her head.

"Ah, love, everything will turn out as it should in the end," she whispered soothingly, trying desperately to ease his anxiety of the journey ahead. "Remember the Prophecy, Boromir? We will overcome this evil, and we will be free to-"

"I cannot settle the disquiet in my heart, Elenmírë," he cut in. His eyes misted with sadness. "I feel a sense of dread creep into my bones when I think of what we must do, and…and I am scared." She whispered comforting words in Elvish, despite the fact that he knew not what she said, and she leaned her head in the nook where his neck met his shoulder, grazing her lips across the soft flesh there before tracing a feather-light trail of kisses along his jaw until their lips met once more.

"Please, worry not, love," she pleaded quietly. "We shall fight our way through this darkness." He said nothing, but drew her closer to him, and together they studied the beauty of Rivendell, peacefully listening to the steady beating of their hearts.

"This is unexpected," a voice called out just behind them, and they both jumped at the sound. Elenmírë felt a flush smear her cheeks, knowing that there was only one person who could truly catch her at unawares, and she ran toward the source of the voice, her arms spread open.

"Elladan!" she cried out as he stepped out from behind a birch, grinning foolishly, and he caught her in his arms and twirled her around.

"Mírë!" he laughed, "it is wonderful to see you again!" Boromir approached them, a smile on his lips as he held out his hand in greeting. "Boromir of Gondor!" Elladan boomed in greeting.

"Hello, Elladan!" he answered jovially, and a shy Elenmírë moved to his side, taking his hand in hers. "Yes, I guess you could say this was unexpected, but I can honestly say I never found happiness until now." Boromir's eyes twinkled as he looked down at his love, who now appeared flustered at his words.

"Oh, stop," Elenmírë muttered dryly, rolling her eyes playfully as she shook her head in embarrassment. Elladan laughed heartily.

"I am pleased someone has finally captured my dear sister's heart," he stated simply as he took her other hand and linked it through his arm, and Elenmírë felt herself blush to an even darker shade of crimson, not from embarrassment this time, but from shame.

_'If he only knew __who,'_ her heart pointed out.

"Let us all leave for dinner, shall we?" Elladan's voice brought her attention back to the present conversation.

"You will tell me what you've discovered, will you not, Elladan?" she pleaded as they all walked together out of the clearing. "I have sorely missed both you and Elrohir!"

"Oh?" he teased with an amused grin, though his eyes betrayed his worries of his travels. "Surely, you could not have missed us _that _much, especially with Boromir to keep you company?" She knew he was diverting the conversation away from her previous question, and she gracefully followed his lead, jotting down a mental note to ask him later, as she feigned a look of intense consideration.

"Actually, you're right," she said, shrugging indifferently, and Boromir guffawed. "Come to think of it, I really did not miss you all that much." A grin played upon her lips as her brother joined in Boromir's laughter.

"Ah, Boromir," he said, addressing the Man, "you have found yourself a feisty one. Are you sure you still want her?" Boromir's eyes twinkled down at her again and nodded his head.

"I have never been more sure of anything else," he said wistfully, and she gently squeezed his hand in affection, but her heart remained heavy with the weight of her weakness for Legolas.

_'You love Boromir,'_ she scolded herself silently as the two males continued the conversation as they walked through the corridors.

_'But you love Legolas, as well, don't you?'_ another part screamed at her, and from the painful throbbing in her chest, she assumed it to be her heart.

_'I do not know him well enough to love him!'_ her mind yelled just as fervently.

_'But you love him all the same! Love at first sight-'_

_'Does not exist!'_

_'If you insist…'_

_'Well…it doesn't…'_

_'You don't sound too sure of yourself…'_

_'I love Boromir!'_

_'Like I said, if you insist…'_

The mental argument between her mind and her heart finally stopped as they reached her room, and she shook her head in amazement at herself. The relationship between her mind and her heart had never been estranged until now, and she was at a loss at which to follow. She lifted her eyes to look at the two who had escorted her to her room, and by their stares, it seemed as though they had been awaiting some sort of answer from her, and she bit her lip apologetically.

"I am sorry," she stammered, looking at one and then the other. "You must excuse me; it seems my mind had drifted for a moment." _'Only a moment?'_ her heart drawled sarcastically, and her mind countered with a threatening pound of the beginnings of a headache. "What was it you asked?"

"Are you feeling ill, my Lady?" Boromir asked again gently, concern wrinkling his brow, and she felt a pang of regret tinged with guilt that she could not completely give her heart to this amazing person. She smiled weakly, and shook her head.

"No, I will be fine," she assured the two of them. "I just need to wash up for dinner, and I will be ready momentarily." Elladan nodded and moved to leave, but paused in amusement to watch Boromir bring Elenmírë's hand to his lips, leaving a gentle kiss on her palm, and not once did they break their gaze.

"I shall be ready to escort you when you are, dearest heart," he whispered in a low tone, forgetting that Elladan could still hear him with his acute hearing. Elladan shot her a foolish smile, and as she flicked her hand in irritation to dismiss him, he let out a hearty laugh before leaving to his quarters. With Elladan gone, Elenmírë pulled Boromir close and brushed her lips softly against his before ducking away into her room where a giggling hand maid greeted her.

"And I thought I would never see the day when the Lady Elenmírë would ever allow anyone to do such a thing as kiss her hand," Annaril teased as she lead Elenmírë to her bath. Annoyed, Elenmírë flicked water in her direction, causing her friend to squeal.

"Will you ever stop this incessant babble?" she groaned, allowing herself to relax in the warmth of the water. She was in no mood for more teasing; she would receive enough of it from her brothers as soon as she entered for dinner, she was sure. Even more maddening was the constant advice Arwen loved to give her at any opportune moment. If there were a time where she could find peace away from it all, she gladly took it, and she was not about to let Annaril spoil it for her.

"You know I am just delighted at the turn of events, arwenamin," Annaril sighed, taking note of Elenmírë's foul mood. "It is assuring to see someone finally break through that barrier of yours to steal your heart."

"The thief," Elenmírë muttered wryly. "I will be sure to set out the appropriate punishments for him later on." Annaril sighed and rolled her eyes at the Lady's sarcasm.

"He is saving your life, you know," she whispered quietly, and Elenmírë looked up sharply at her.

"What do you mean?"

"If I may be so bold to say such a thing, but before you met Boromir, I-I feared for you, my Lady," she muttered, folding clothes to detach herself somewhat from the conversation. She knew she was treading on unsteady ground by speaking her mind; Elenmírë could be proud to the point of being stubborn.

"Whatsoever for?" Elenmírë demanded indignantly, straightening up in her bath. "I am well, as you can plainly see! I can take care of myself."

"I never intended to imply that you could not," Annaril quickly explained, her eyes growing wide before returning to their natural size. She looked away. " I meant no offense, my Lady. I only say the things I do because I am concerned." There was a moment of silence before Elenmírë sighed.

"I know, Annaril," Elenmírë whispered, closing her eyes as she sank even deeper into the water. "Please, continue. I did not mean to lash out at you like I did. I apologize."

"There is no need for you to do so, arwenamin." She bestowed on her a motherly smile. "I understand the past two months have not been easy. Which is why I am grateful that Boromir is in your life." She inhaled deeply before letting out a slow breath. "I was worried about you because it was only obvious you were fading, and you had even expressed your trepidations as well." She set out Elenmírë's clothes as she spoke. "I am so happy that you have finally found love, found something to live for, Elenmírë. We were close…to losing you." She turned her back to the Lady, not wanting her to see the sadness upon her face.

_'Ah, Annaril,'_ Elenmírë thought silently, _'if only you knew how close I am at the moment to losing myself to my indecisiveness.'_ It was true that the light of her soul was now easily seen around her, but compared to the others, her light was still so very dim. She was happier, yes, but not fully, at least not yet, and her glow reflected that. Boromir had noticed, of course, but he accepted her reasoning when she blamed it on her fear of the journey.

"Thank you," she replied instead to the hand maiden, "for being one of the few to really care about me, Annaril." Annaril frowned.

"You do not give yourself enough credit, my Lady," she chastised, motioning for her to hurry with her bath. No more was said between them as Elenmírë quickly finished and dressed in her usual attire with her sword at her waist, her bow and quiver on her back. She gave Annaril a soft smile of thanks before she headed out of her door where Boromir waited for her, and hand in hand they walked together to the commons.

The activity in the room was more lively than usual, now that all of the scouts had finally returned from their excursion. Again, as always, Elenmírë's eyes landed on Legolas and Mary Sue at their usual seats at the Head Table as she and Boromir waded through the crowd to reach theirs. And, as was his habit, Legolas always managed to fix his gaze on her the same moment her eyes sought out his, and he nodded in her direction, sending her a welcoming smile. Then on cue, Mary Sue caught his fixed gaze and sent Elenmírë her own forced smile, though her eyes shot daggers at her. Elenmírë sighed. Some things never change. The scene replayed night after night, in different variations of course, but always stuck to the same formula.

They finally reached the table, and she took her seat by her father, who was involved in an intense, private conversation with Aragorn. The Ranger sat on Elrond's other side by Arwen, who greeted Elenmírë with her own beautiful smile, and her eyes twinkled always at the sight of Elenmírë and Boromir together._ 'Oh, no,'_ she thought in discouragement as Arwen, whispered an excuse to Aragorn and Elrond and rose from her seat to approach her sister.

"Ah, Elenmírë, Boromir!" she called out the same greeting every night in her amazingly song-like voice.

"Good evening, dear sister," Elenmírë answered, feeling a smile tug on her lips despite her annoyance. Arwen gracefully reached their side, planting herself right in the between the two of them as they took their seats.

"And how is the lovely couple tonight?" Arwen asked, raising an eyebrow.

"We are well, Lady Arwen," Boromir answered politely, giving her the same response he always did for the past two months as he nodded his head in her direction. "And how fare you, my lady?"

"Wonderful," she answered automatically, a smile lighting up her already beautifully glowing face. She said no more as she gestured for Boromir to eat the dinner that had been placed before him, and Elenmírë reached for the sliced fruits on her plate when Arwen gently touched her arm. "We must talk, Elenmírë," Arwen said so quietly that only she could hear her. "There are a few things I would very much like to give you counsel for."

"Of course." Elenmírë inwardly groaned but smiled all the same at her sister, who looked incredibly pleased.

"I will collect you after you have finished your meal," she whispered before rising from her seat, and raising her voice to its normal pitch, she addressed the two of them. "I cannot express how happy I am for the both of you! We shall all have a chat later!" With that, she smoothly cross back to her seat and sat down.

"As she always says each and every night," Elenmírë whispered, moving into the seat next to Boromir. "I think we get the point." She tilted her head in amusement as Boromir shot her a look as he almost choked on a piece of meat from nearly laughing out loud. "Sorry, love," she apologized, grinning. They spent the remainder of their dinner in comfortable silence as they observed the crowd in the dining hall, and only uttered their welcome to her brothers as they joined them.

As she suspected, Elrohir and Elladan began their teasing almost immediately, and she had to keep her wits about her to keep them from using their most insensitive jokes. However, she soon found that she cared not what they said about her relationship with Boromir (though both she and Boromir were red from embarrassment at their suggestive comments) for their opinion did not matter much, and she kept a small smile on her face. Boromir had changed her a bit during their couple of months together, she realized suddenly. Now that she was sure she had someone to love her for what she was, she cared less of how others perceived her, especially Mary Sue. Her smile grew wider as she studied him interact with her twin brothers; not only did he give her his love, he gave her a bit more confidence as well, and she knew that to share her lifetime with him would only be the least she could do.

Her brothers discovered soon enough that she was not the same. Their comments were heard, but went by unheeded, and it was unusual for Elenmírë to do such a thing. They kept their amazement in check as she gently shook her head at them as if to scold them for their antics, but the genuine smile of happiness on her face was unmistakable, and it even surprised them when she joined in their friendly banter to insult _them_. They could not faze her like before, and they looked on in appreciation at the Man of Gondor for the positive influence he had on their sister.

"Elenmírë," a soft voice interrupted, and the four of them looked up to Arwen, and nodding, Elenmírë rose to join her. She put her hand up in protest when Boromir rose as well, and he sat back down in understanding.

"I shall not be long," she said to him, her eyes reflecting the love she saw in his, and he caught hold of the hand she had held up, brushing his lips against it, causing a huge smile to spread across both their faces. Arwen suppressed a giggle as she gently tugged on Elenmírë's other arm, pulling her away. Linking their arms together, they left Boromir to the relentless teasing of the twins.

The two sisters walked in silence, Elenmírë letting Arwen lead the way, and they arrived in the tiny glen of weeping willows where Elenmírë and Boromir had shared their first kiss. They settled on the grass underneath the tall sycamore, watching the final caresses of the sun's last rays on the night sky, and Elenmírë dared to break the peace and spoke first.

"What was it that you wanted to talk to me about, Arwen?" she asked, tilting her head in curiosity.

"It is about Aragorn," Arwen stated simply, never taking her eyes from the rising moon. "He is troubled by this quest. His time has come to reclaim the throne of Gondor and lead his people against this darkness. I know I cannot take part of this journey with him, but you will." Her love for Aragorn shone brightly on her face, and once again, Elenmírë felt intimidated by her beauty, grateful that the coming night hid her bland face from Arwen. Instinctively, she sucked in her belly as to hide her bulge, unable to totally free herself of her self-consciousness.

"What is it that you ask of me?" Elenmírë inquired, and Arwen finally turned to look at her.

"Be there for him," she answered bluntly. "He does not disclose his fears easily, but you are his closest friend on this journey, Elenmírë, next to Mithrandir. I know he can take care of himself physically, but I am worried about his mentality, especially with all the pressures he must face concerning his rightful title." Elenmírë nodded. "Please, make sure he is alright."

"Of course, Arwen," she agreed. "I will do it not only because you ask it of me, but because, as his friend, it is my obligation." Arwen smiled, supplying the glen with her inner glow.

"Thank you," she said gratefully, giving her a hug. Pulling back, a mischievous look crossed her face, and she lifted her eyebrow in question. "So how are things with Boromir?"

Elenmírë let out an exasperated groan, and shook her head. "I knew I would not be able to escape your curiosity so quickly," she sighed, grinning.

"What are sisters for?" she laughed back. "Come, you have not told me much, and he has been courting you for two months! Two months, Elenmírë! How dare you not share your intrigues with me!"

"Oh, with Annaril's pestering questions, I only hoped to avoid any more," she said, joining her laughter, and their voices lifted into the night air, mixing amid the various songs of the nightingales.

"Come now, when did he first kiss you?" Arwen asked, her eyes shining, and Elenmírë blushed. They had never really confided in each other concerning such things before (not that Elenmírë had much experience before Boromir, nor did she want to hear such details from Arwen about Aragorn; jealousy prevented her from asking such inquires in the past), but Elenmírë had to admit, there was a sense of excitement now, recalling her feelings during that special moment with Boromir, and it made her beyond giddy to finally be able to share something like this with Arwen.

"It was the day of my first fouled attempt to train Mary Sue," she answered, wrinkling her nose as if a putrid smell had suddenly engulfed her. She gestured to the bridge over the small stream just to the left of where they sat. "It was there, in the middle of that bridge." Arwen giggled as she shot a glance to the spot before turning her attention back to Elenmírë.

"Well, how was it?" she demanded eagerly, and Elenmírë's eyes widened, and she looked away as she recalled the feelings, the sensations, and she felt her neck heat up with warmth.

"At first, it was…strange," she commented shyly. "I did not know exactly how to respond, but when our mouths opened and…and…I cannot believe I am telling you this!" She buried her face in her hands, and Arwen let out a loud peal clutching her stomach as she struggled to breathe.

"Let me guess," she stammered between her howls of laughter. "Your mind went completely blank and you lost all feeling in your knees and you felt like you were about to topple over had he not had his arms around you? There were stars bursting underneath your closed lids and you saw dazzling firework displays much like Mithrandir's conjured tricks!"

"Is that how it is supposed to feel like?" Elenmírë asked blankly, unable to close her mouth before the words slipped through. "Oh I did not mean it like that!" But Arwen's eyes grew as wide as saucers and her jaw dropped slightly.

"You mean, that was not how it felt?" she asked, her voice barely audible.

"Well…well, I…I-I did feel rather weak," Elenmírë stammered, her face heating up. "It felt wonderful, and I did rather protest when he stopped-" the corners of Arwen's lips twitched up at this,"-but firework displays and the stars and such…there were none." She bit her lip as she struggled to analyze the clear look of puzzlement on the Evenstar's face. "Is that odd? Do you see glittering lights underneath your lids when you and Aragorn…?" Her voice trailed off, shifting uncomfortably, and she could not believe she had asked a question she would not have dared to ask many years before.

"Yes, beyond any doubt, I do," Arwen said automatically, a faint pink touching the apples of her cheeks, "and each kiss we share feels exactly like the first…it is difficult to explain." She shook her head slightly. "I do not know what this means between you and Boromir, but he makes you happy, does he not?"

"Yes," Elenmírë confirmed with a sure nod, and Arwen settled back to lean against the bark of the sycamore.

"Then that is all that matters," she assured her sister, smiling. "What happened next?" Elenmírë shrugged.

"Nothing really," she stated, furrowing her brow as she recalled the events. "He just held me in his arms, and then Legolas-" she cut off her voice to inhale sharply before beginning again, "H-He had been watching us _again _the entire time from this very sycamore, and he finally made his presence known after it had happened. " Arwen's posture snapped straight in surprise.

"Again?" she repeated. "He watched you before?" She shook her head in amazement at how interesting the entire story was turning out.

"Yes. He was in the foliage the other time when Boromir was about to kiss me in one of the other gardens, but before he could, Legolas threw an acorn directly at him, succeeding in hitting Boromir in between his brows." Elenmírë bit her lip, recalling the mischievous smile that Legolas had given her after she had caught him, and she could not stop her heart from leaping excitedly at the memory. "I honestly did not know what had gotten into him to incite him to do such a thing." Arwen was quiet a moment before she spoke, her words clearer than the ringing of silver trumpets.

"Legolas is in love with you," Arwen stated matter-of-factly, crossing her arms at her conclusion.

"Wh-What!" Elenmírë spluttered hotly, shaking her head in denial. The thought had crossed her mind a few times before, but hearing it spoke aloud was…unnerving. "Of course not, Arwen! That is ludicrous! He has that beautiful, perfect _girl_, Mary Sue, and-"

"He's using her to make you jealous."

"Yes!" Elenmírë exclaimed, and then let out a low growl. "No! Arwen, let me finish! You are distracting me." But Arwen shook her head.

"Elenmírë, in all the talks I have tried to have with you about Boromir, not once did I see this sort of passion from you, and the mere mention of Legolas' name makes you jump," she said calmly, her voice pacifying. Elenmírë folded her hands nervously over her lap, refusing to look up. "I know you love Boromir, dear sister, it is written plainly across your face. But maybe…he _is _your love, but not your _true _love, Elenmírë." Before Elenmírë could counter with a reasonable retort, the sound of footsteps hushed their voices and they turned to see Aragorn walking in their direction. He smiled apologetically at having disturbed them, but Elenmírë was on her feet and gestured for him to sit by Arwen.

"No, please stay, Aragorn," she insisted, shooting a furtive glance at her sister who was all smiles at the sight of her lover. "I was just about to leave anyway." She grasped her sister's hand and gave it a squeeze before walking back toward the terrace that led to her room. _'Legolas in love with me?'_ her mind scoffed. _'That is just ridiculous! Of all the things she had to say…'_ She paused a moment down the corridor that led to her chambers when she felt her heart call out for her to turn and flee down the other direction. She paused, resting her hand on a railing, and her heart once again fluttered vigorously, pleading with her. "Oh, why not," she muttered to herself, and allowed her feet to carry her down another hallyway, not knowing what exactly she was looking for nor where precisely her heart was trying to lead her to.

Her heart finally resumed a normal heart rate when she found herself in a circular gazebo set underneath Higan cherry trees. The moonlight filtered through the branches and the arched top of the gazebo, and she idly wondered why she felt so drawn to the place. When she was younger, she loved to read there when the trees were in bloom, and their pink and red flower petals would fall softly onto the pages of whatever books she carried with her, delighting her to no end. She smiled at the memory, when unexpectedly, her heart pounded harshly against her ribs. She turned around, feeling a presence of a person behind her, and inhaled sharply.

The moonlight only enhanced his ethereal glow, casting his blond locks silver, and in the stillness of the night, his blue eyes shone softly in her direction, a soft smile playing on his lips. His arms hung calmly to his sides, and his head was tilted slightly as he studied her. He whispered but one word in a question, as if unsure of the vision in front of him. "Elenmírë?" Her spine tingled as her name rolled off his tongue; she felt paralyzed. Only three feet separated them, and she wondered how he had snuck up behind her. Only Elladan could do that…

"Legolas," she replied back in greeting, unable to keep the tremor from her voice. "I see you haven't learned your lesson, have you?" she joked lightly, though her voice sounded strained. "Boromir is not here for you to throw acorns at, I'm afraid, but you follow me nonetheless."

"I dare not do such a thing now," he said, never moving a muscle, "not when you are so heavily guarded by your lover." She tried to keep her face impassive, hoping that he could not see how weak he made her feel by merely looking at her.

"Then why are you here, if you had not been following me?" she asked him carefully, desperately digressing away from the mention of Boromir.

"I think, my Lady, that _you _had followed _me _here," he said in an equal tone. "I came here to think on my own, but I was here but for less than five minutes when you arrived."

"I did not see you," she said defensively, her eyes flaring a bit, "so you cannot accuse me of following you." A frown tugged on his lips, but he dared not lose their eye contact.

"Nay, my Lady," he said softly, "I do not accuse you; I merely stated what I had hoped was true." Her words caught in her throat, and she swallowed back the retorts she had lined up to shoot at him.

"I should go then," she said hastily, and looked away as she crossed in front of him to leave, but he caught hold of her hand and spun her around to face him.

"Stop running from me, Elenmírë," he whispered in her ear as he pulled her close. "Please, stop." She froze in his arms, unable to stop the heat that burned through her skin at the mere contact of his embrace. She attempted to push him away, but as her hands felt the strong muscular chest through his tunic, O Holy Valar, she was weakening! She felt it in her entire body, and her breath grew shallow at standing so close to him.

"You have to let me go, Legolas," she pleaded, tears forming in her eyes. This was not what she needed to add to her already confused mind, and the only thought she had that moment was to flee into the safety of her chambers. The longer she stayed in his arms, the greater her desire became to fling everything out of her mind and to succumb to the insistent need to feel his lips pressed against hers, to tell him how much her heart longed for him.

"No, you know I cannot do that," he choked out, "not until you tell me there is nothing between us, not until…not until I do this." Her eyes grew wide as his fingers traced her lips before they were replaced with his own, gently tugging at hers, as if afraid she would disappear from his arms in any moment. She fell into the kiss, closing her eyes as she responded, and suddenly, beneath her lids, stars as bright as Eärendil streaked across her conscious mind, as spectacular as any of Gandalf's fireworks. Her knees were close to giving away, but he held her steady with his strong arms. Her heart was soaring, and she felt…free, for the first time. Barely aware of her surroundings, her mouth allowed him access willingly, and his tongue teased her lips and her palette before gently caressing her own tongue, and she gasped at the incredible, almost unbearable heat that rose from her body in response to just one kiss from Legolas…but no, this was not right! She was not supposed to be standing underneath the moonlight with him, no matter how much this kiss made her feel so…completely whole and untarnished. _'Boromir!'_ her mind yelled insanely at her. _'Think about Boromir!'_

Gathering what strength she could, she pressed her palms flat on his chest, blocking out the noise of her protesting heart, and pushed away, stumbling to the floor. He attempted to help her up, but she swatted his hands away. "No!" she cried out firmly. She got up unsteadily, and bringing a hand to wipe the tears that fell, she turned and ran out of the gazebo, forcing her legs to carry her as far away from him as possible. His voice lifted into the air as he called out to her, her name sounding as sweet as wine to her ears, and his hand was stretched out to reach for her, but she had fled too quickly.

"Elenmírë!"

"No, Legolas, no," she whimpered, and she ran blindly, turning this way and that, uncaring of where she would end up, as long as she put as much distance between herself and Legolas. She had no idea how she had let it get so out of control, but she already decided on one thing: she would not tell Boromir. She turned a corner and a sudden impact with something solid nearly caused her to fall backwards, but two steady arms wrapped around her to catch her before she fell. She trembled in his embrace, the familiar scent of him drifting into her nostrils. "Boromir," she cried softly, raising her eyes to look into his face.

"Dearest heart, what is it that ails you?" he asked in alarm, holding her closer to him, and she wrapped her arms around his waist and rested her head against his chest.

"Just hold me please," she sobbed. _'No, I will never hurt him,'_ she promised herself vehemently. _'Never again, Legolas, will I allow myself to fall under your spell!'_ Boromir rocked her softly as her tears subsided, but their hold on each other never waned. When she was finally calm, he said nothing, but bent down and slid one arm under her knees with his other arm cradling her back as he swept her up and carried her to her room.

Annaril was surprised to see her Lady in the arms of the Man of Gondor in such a manner, but she said not one word as he lay her on her bed. He moved to leave, but she turned her head to face him and grabbed a hold of his hand.

"No Boromir, stay," she said softly, and Annaril let out an astonished gasp, but said nothing. His eyes softened as he looked down into Elenmírë's tear-streaked face and nodded, and Annaril placed a hand over her chest, taking deep breaths.

"Yes, I will be back in a few minutes," he replied just as quietly. "Annaril will change you into your sleepwear in the meantime." He nodded in Annaril's direction and walked out of the door, closing it quietly behind him. The hand maiden did not utter one word of protest nor did she scold, seeing how frail Elenmírë now looked. Her light was almost completely diminished, and she could not help but wonder at what would have caused such a thing to happen just when her glow was beginning to grow back to its former bright state. She changed Elenmírë quickly and slipped out of the door just as Boromir approached in his attire, and she averted her eyes from his as she nodded in acquiescence for him to enter.

"Elenmírë?" he whispered as he approached the bed, and she turned to him, holding out her hand to take his.

"Hold me, Boromir," she uttered, and he crept into the bed behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist, and she leaned back against him. "I am sorry to have worried you."

"There is no need for an apology, love," he murmured into her ear. "Only when you feel comfortable enough to discuss it will I ask for you to disclose to me what has upset you so. I will not force you to explain everything to me now." She sighed.

"Thank you." He responded by gently leaving a kiss on the tender skin of her neck. His soothing act of affection nearly brought tears to her eyes once more at her foolish lack of self-control. She changed the subject quickly to keep from sobbing again. "So did you ever find out from Elrohir and Elladan of what the Scouts have discovered during their excursion?" He cleared his throat, and she felt him nod against her hair.

"There was no trace of the Black Riders anywhere, though three of their horses have been found drowned at the flooded Ford," he informed her. "Gandalf hopes now that the Ringwraiths are scattered, so the Fellowship must leave quickly. The Enemy, of course, has other servants, but Gandalf believes that if we leave now, by the time they reach the borders of Rivendell to pick up our trail, we will be long gone." She shivered at the news and he held on tighter to her. "Lord Elrond has declared that we leave in seven days time."

"So soon?" Her heart dropped at the words. In a week, she would be gone from the only home she had ever known, leaving behind a wonderful foster family that she loved with almost her entire being. She had to choke back a sob that arose in her chest, and Boromir kissed her cheek softly.

"Shh, love," he pacified. "You must rest." She felt her body relaxing as he held her closer to his warmth, and soon, before her eyes glazed over with sleep, she heard him whisper, "I love you, Elenmírë."

* * *

TBC..  



	13. Chapter Twelve: The Ring Goes South

**Disclaimer:** Tolkien owns the wonderful world of Middle Earth. I own Elenmírë, Annaril, and all original characters mentioned in this story.

**Author's Notes:** _01/17/06_ - Damn, I love laying on the romantic drama, don't I? LOL.

The Imperfect On  
By: Goddess-Isis-112

Chapter Twelve: The Ring Goes South

Seven days and nights passed far too quickly for Elenmírë, and she suddenly found herself dressed in her usual tunic, leggings and a heavy cloak lined with fur as she prepared to depart with the rest of the Fellowship and Mary Sue. It was still dark, but Lord Elrond had suggested that they leave and travel only under the cover of darkness until they were safely away from Rivendell, for they knew not what creatures and spies the Dark Lord had set about them. As they stood in the great hall by the fire, they listened anxiously to Elrond, who informed them that the journey to destroy the Ring was Frodo's and his alone, and those of the Fellowship who wished to tarry or return could do so.

"Faithless is he that says farewell when the road darkens," Gimli the Dwarf muttered, voicing the opinion of every single person of the Fellowship.

Elenmírë felt her eyes tear up as she looked to her father, not knowing whether it would be the last time she would ever see him or hear his voice again. As Bilbo bid his farewell to them all, she reached for her father, who took her in his embrace, holding her close to him, and she heard his voice quaver.

"Fare thee well, my daughter," he said softly.

"Amin mela lle (I love you)," she whispered in response, but never did she allow her tears to fall, wishing to remain strong even though her heart was breaking. Her eyes studied his face, as if trying to memorize every minute detail, knowing that it would be many moons before she would ever see his reassuring face again, or _if_.

"I love you, too, dearest daughter," he said, his features finally showing signs of his worry and sadness, and she closed her eyes to lock the sound of his voice into her heart. They finally released each other, and she turned away, knowing that if she stayed any longer, she would revoke her vow to follow Frodo. Her heart was throbbing with an ache that she had only once before experienced when her mother had been taken away, but now the pain was once again as fresh as the morning dew. She had to leave and leave quickly; she did not know how much longer she could take it before she would rush back into the safety of the quiet halls of Rivendell. Boromir clasped her hand tightly as he lifted an object, the Horn of Gondor, to his lips, before blowing into it, sending a final goodbye to the Last Homely Home, and the strength of his hand on hers gave her some courage.

There were some who stood on the terraces, their faces engulfed in the shadow of the night, but Elenmírë could distinguish two distinct, identical figures, each with a hand raised in a sorrowful farewell. Once again, the pang in her heart resurfaced, and she struggled to choke back a cry. Tears were brimming under her lids, but she held them back, despite the sting they so readily provided.

"Goodbye, my beloved brothers," she whispered into the air as the company began to depart, and without another word, she followed the ten in front of her. With Gandalf leading and Aragorn by his side, the Fellowship made their way across the bridge and up the winding, steep paths, continuing into the night. They traveled to the Ford of Bruinen before leaving the main road, stumbling upon the narrow paths of the folded land. They would keep to the west of the Misty Mountains for forty days, and they knew the journey would be a cold one.

With each step, Elenmírë was leaving her only sanctuary behind, but the constant presence of the one who had controlled her heart and mind was one of the two main reasons she continued, the other being the far more important one of saving Middle Earth. But discreetly glancing to her side, her eyes softened as they looked upon Legolas, and she knew that she would follow him to the very fires of Mordor. Nothing was going to keep her away from him, even if she could not allow that very fact to be public knowledge.

Being the Elves that they were, Elenmírë and Legolas brought up the back of the company as the rearguard, their keen eyesight a valuable tool for defense, but because of the interlude between them the week before, they remained silent, knowing exactly what to say to the other, but not trusting themselves to speak the words that were dying to flow free from their lips. Boromir would look back at them now and then, as would Mary Sue, but neither could understand the booming silence between the two Elves. Of course, traveling beside the Hobbits in the center of the parade proved to be a comforting distraction, and it wasn't until they stopped to rest that they would question the Elves, but neither would receive a fair answer. Elenmírë was adamant on never letting Boromir know of what had come to pass between herself and Legolas, and it seemed the Prince of Mirkwood also silently agreed for he never spoke one word of it to anyone, despite the constant whining of Mary Sue.

After a fortnight, the weather suddenly changed, and the sun made its appearance as the clouds dissolved into a beautiful light blue sky. The company reached a ridge surrounded by ancient holly-trees just as they wearily paused from their long night march to admire the awakening dawn. On this ridge, they rested, each spending the break the way they saw fit. Gandalf was perched atop a boulder, a pipe in his mouth with halos of smoke hovering just above his head. After breakfast ("A mere snack!" Pippin had grumbled), the Hobbits were putting their sword-fighting skills to the test as they sparred with Boromir, and Aragorn, Elenmírë and Mary Sue watched on in quiet amusement. Legolas stood still, looking into the distance, and Gimli Son of Gloin mumbled incoherently by his side.

Elenmírë could see Legolas perfectly with her peripheral vision, taking in the graceful movements of his lithe body as he leapt upon boulders, scanning the land and sky for any possible danger. Her heart was hammering in her chest, and she knew she could no longer deny to whom her heart responded. Their kiss was proof enough of that, and each and every time she thought of it, her heart soared with the freedom she had always longed for but had never grasped until the moment their lips had met in that sweet kiss. She felt her cheeks flushing, and she quickly scolded herself, forcing her eyes to focus on Boromir, and Boromir alone. They were in love, yes, but was it true love?

Her eyes glazed over with admiration as she studied the proud, fair face of the Man of Gondor, a face that was fixed in concentration as he taught swings and blocks to the small Hobbits, and it warmed her heart to see how wonderful he was to the tiniest two of her friends: Merry and Pippin. They were of short stature, and her imagination began to run wild. With Boromir towering over them, it seemed as if he were playing with children, and Elenmírë smiled quietly, a visual drifting into her head of Boromir training their children one day to be fine warriors. The image made her eyes light up with a sort of happiness, yet…she did not feel complete, and the smile that had played upon her lips slowly faded away.

"Ah!" Pippin cried out in pain, shaking Elenmírë out of her daydreams, and her eyes shot to the small Hobbit's face which was distorted with the mixed emotions of hurt and frustration.

"O, sorry!" Boromir sputtered in disbelief, dropping his sword to kneel to Pippin's side, but the young Took shot out his leg and tripped the man to the ground. Elenmírë clutched at her stomach as her laughter held her captive, and she snorted even louder as Merry joined the fray, crying out, "For the Shire!" The three wrestled on the floor, and Elenmírë composed herself long enough to gently tug her love away from the playfully angry grips of her two friends, and they scowled up at her.

"Elenmírë, no fair!" Pippin protested. "We were just getting started!"

"I do prefer to have my love in one piece, thank you," she laughed, and Boromir twirled her in his arms, before placing a kiss on her lips. A single guilty thought raced through her head, and she hated herself even more at that moment: _I wish I could kiss Legolas again_. However, the thought itself must have translated through her rather chaste kiss for Boromir pulled away sharply, his eyes narrowing, and he looked down at her to study her face as a look of confusion covered his. Elenmírë felt her heart nearly stop its pounding when Boromir's facial features contorted to hurt and suspicion, and she pulled him close, praying that her guilt was not displayed so blatantly on her countenance. _O holy Elbereth, please let him not suspect!_ The hobbits stared at them dejectedly, but they had no time to wallow for Samwise's question put a chill through their veins.

"What's that?" he asked, staring off into the horizon where a dark grey cloud of…_something_ was flying toward them…

"It is just a wisp of clouds!" Gimli declared, placing his hands on his hips in irritation. Boromir shook his head.

"It's moving fast…against the wind," Boromir argued, his eyes growing wide, and Elenmírë pulled out of his grasp, trying to deny what her eyes were telling her.

"Crebain from Dunland!" Legolas confirmed with a hiss, and Elenmírë felt a tug at her hand and found herself looking into the wide eyes of Pippin. She nodded, and together, they ducked under some foliage where Boromir and Merry were already waiting for them. Her eyes urgently scanned the ridge and breathed a sigh of relief upon spotting Legolas' white blond head lying patiently under a thorn bush, and for a minute, she was brought back to the memories of his eavesdropping antics. Their relationship had been so innocent then, but it had all changed in one forbidden, stolen moment, and she knew with all her being that it was he whom she had been waiting for, but as an arm snaked around her waist to hold her close to a steady, strong body, she was reminded of why they could never act on impulse ever again.

Boromir's heart was beating wildly against her back, and she settled closer to him, but his fear for both of their lives was apparent in the tremble of his hand as it held hers. They all lay silent, but her eyes never strayed from the spot where Legolas lay, and despite the seriousness of the situation at hand, jealousy flared when she noticed Mary Sue sneaking her way to his side, snuggling under his arm.

She had no time to dwell on her anger for it was quickly wiped out of her mind as soon as the dark birds came streaking across the air above them. Their awful screeching pained her sensitive ears, and instinctively, she curled closer to Boromir who gladly offered his warmth. His arms wrapped protectively around her, much tighter than usual. The harsh thrashing of wings joined the terrible cacophony, and Elenmírë gritted her teeth, desperately trying to cover her ears from the tortuous sounds. Merry and Pippin quivered beside her, and she wished with all her being that she could have been more comforting for them, but even she could not stop the coldness that had possessed her body. The roughness of the rocks underneath her were digging into her sides, and she tried desperately not to shift for fear of drawing attention to themselves. The birds slowly descended away, and the company crawled out of their hiding places, sweating and breathing hard.

"Spies of Saruman!" Gandalf sneered angrily. "The passage south is being watched. We must take the pass of Caradhras." Pippin's face paled as they all turned to stare up at the tall, snowy peak and shivered involuntarily.

"Worry not, Pip," Elenmírë uttered softly as they all gathered their things, but her words were unconvincing even to her own ears. He gave her a feeble smile and moved to his place in the middle of the company as they followed the old wizard to meet the great knees of the mountains. The air around them grew thin and cold, and the Elves sadly studied the others who had begun to quaver at winter's penetrating caresses.

Legolas had said not one word to Elenmírë the moment their journey had begun, and every single second was nothing short of torture. There were so many words that he needed to tell her, that he needed to say, and keeping them inside was driving himself insane. As he and Elenmírë lightly traveled over the snow while the others trekked through it, he observed her seemingly emotionless face, knowing that it was nothing more than a mask. There were instances when her real emotions broke free across her facial features, but only his quick Elven eyes could catch them. He had seen her worry when her eyes had darted across the space between them when the crebain had made their appearance, but he had dared not lift his head to reassure her at that time. He knew the black birds could detect the slightest movement, but what was more terrifying was that if he had in fact turned to look at her only to watch her cling to Boromir, the sight would have torn his poor heart into shambles, and he would have rather faced multiple battles against Orcs than to face another moment without her.

Their kiss was not a mistake, and the memory gnawed at his heart ever since it had happened. He should have kissed her a long time ago, he was certain, for he felt his destiny in the feel of her lips pressed against his, and he knew he was now paying for his conflicting emotions. But he was determined to say no more, not until the time was right. They had a mission to do, and he was not going to make the journey more increasingly tense than it already was by putting his love for her before his commitment to the Fellowship.

He gulped. _Love?_ Had he actually thought that? He shook the unnecessary question out of his head because the answer was obvious enough. _Yes_. His love for her was always there, and but for his questioning mind, his heart knew it all along. He had been acting strange the past couple of months because he needed to remain focused on their mission ahead, but whenever Elenmírë was by him, his thoughts turned into mud, and he could no longer remember what task he had been occupied with mere seconds before she came near. Now that they were finally on their way to Mount Doom, he needed to push her out of his mind, but it was nearly impossible when she was always right there, so close that if he lifted his hand, he could easily stroke her face. He could feel it within his very soul that if he ever touched her again, he would never let her go, and now was not the time for such things. But will that time ever come, or was he grasping on to flimsy hopes?

Step by step, they trailed after the others, keeping close watch on the areas surrounding them. Her light breathing was like music to his ears, and he relished the sound of her soft sigh that came every so often just before she would turn to briefly glance at him. Her habit had become so routine that when the company finally stopped to rest, he turned his head to look at her just as her sigh escaped her lips.

Their eyes locked.

There was a tumultuous storm of emotions raging within her misty greys, but the rest of her face remained impassive. She bit onto her bottom lip, but he forced his body to remain still, suppressing the urge to take her right then and there and make love to her in the soft whiteness of the snow. Holy Valar, how he wanted her, to feel her comforting presence in his arms, especially now when each living moment had much more value to him. She opened her mouth and spoke, her eyes glistening with sadness.

"I am sorry."

Legolas blinked. It took several seconds for the words to finally register, and the corners of his lips pulled downward. She was sorry? But why?

"That kiss never should have happened," she continued quietly, answering his unspoken question. "Because of it, we hardly communicate. The least we can do is talk to each other in order to help the fellowship to the best of our abilities. If we do not amend our mistakes, then we will be of no use to them."

"It was no mistake," he said just as softly. "But I agree. I, too, apologize, only for causing you discomfort, but I will not be sorry for what did come to pass between us that night." She shook her head, sighing even more heavily.

"Nothing happened," she stated firmly, her grey eyes challenging his, and despite the hostility in them, his heart leapt at the fire that burned within her spirit.

"Very well," he said, and her jaw dropped slightly in shock, as if she had been waiting for him to counter with some sort of argument, but he knew he never wanted to cause her grief again. For a moment, her façade melted, and the insecurity behind her words were evident, and he did the only thing he could think of to comfort her without finding himself at the receiving end of the swings of Boromir's sword.

He smiled.

Elenmírë blinked. Legolas was not fighting her as she had expected he would, as he had in the past. He merely accepted her denial, but his easy acquiescence unnerved her even more than if he had argued and had caused a scene. It made her apprehensive about her quick words because they deceived him, and yet if he knew, it seemed he did not mind.

However, as always, there was a situation with the rest of the group that provided an easy exit away from the awkwardness she was feeling with Legolas's sudden about-face, but her heart dropped as she veered her attention to Frodo who stood beside Aragorn, and the rightful King of Gondor was poised to attack Boromir. In spite of this, Boromir seemed oblivious for there in his gloved hands was the chain that held the One Ring. _'What is he doing!'_ her mind screamed frantically, and she and Legolas lightly crossed to Aragorn's side. Frodo's attire was covered with snow, and it was apparent that he had tumbled, accidentally freeing the Ring from his neck in the process.

"Boromir!" she cried out, her voice sounding frail against the gust of the wind that danced through the atmosphere. Her eyes darted to Aragorn's face, and her heart pounded with nervousness to see the look of wrath upon his fair features. She held her breath. Boromir responded naught, but gazed ever steadily into the gleaming golden band.

As her own eyes darted to the Ring, time suddenly stood still. She slowly became so transfixed that Boromir's words barely reached her keen ears. The Ring was…beautiful, stunning. The faint sunlight danced upon the strips of the red, gold and bronze colors that played upon its smooth exterior, and Elenmírë felt her eyelids droop a bit and slowly lifted her hand, as if to reach out for it. Just one touch. All she wanted was one touch to feel the sleekness beneath her fingertips. She was losing herself to the call of the Ring's seduction…

"It is a strange fate that we should suffer so much fear and doubt over so small a thing," Boromir whispered. "Such a little thing…"

"Boromir!" Aragorn boomed, snapping both Boromir and Elenmírë out of their trances, and she glanced up guilty at Legolas. She was surprised; there upon his face as well was a look of remorse that she knew covered her own. Their eyes locked once more, but she averted her gaze away to study Boromir, only to see him hesitating.

"Boromir," Aragorn repeated steadily and his hand gripped the hilt of his sword. "Give the Ring to Frodo." Boromir stood frozen to the spot, trying to shake his head free from the hold the Ring had had on him, but Mary Sue sighed with exasperation, crossing the snow to him. Snatching the chain out of his hand, she handed it daintily back to Frodo before whipping around to glare angrily at Boromir.

"Now that wasn't _that_ hard, was it?" She growled in frustration, folding her arms. "All you had to do was give it to the little guy! I don't see what was so grueling about-"

"Damn you, leave him alone!" Elenmírë snapped, her face flushed with rage. Her hands were clutched into fists, and she marched right into Mary Sue's face. What kind of creature was she to so nonchalantly handle a Ring of Power? "Do you not see how difficult it is to resist the call of the Ring? What sort of a demon are you? Surely, you must be one of the Dark Lord's own to possess a will strong enough to resist the pure evil of his creation."

"Elenmírë, please, it is over," Boromir said quietly, his head hanging slightly in shame. Still, her shoulders shook with fury, and her eyes screamed curses at the girl who still cowered in her presence. Elenmírë was far from done with her.

"Don't you ever dare act as if you are better than him again, do you understand me?" she sneered, her lip curled in disgust.

"Whatever," Mary Sue grumbled, still unable to meet Elenmírë's dark gaze. "It's his own fault for holding on to it for so long anyway-" The rest of her sentence was cut off as Elenmírë's hand found contact with her cheek in a quick, satisfying slap. Oh, how wonderful it felt! But, deep inside, Elenmírë knew she had reacted far too quickly, even if Mary Sue's behavior toward Boromir was unacceptable. Her frustration with her conflicting emotions for both Legolas and Boromir were kept bottled inside, and Mary Sue had easily become her scapegoat.

Mary Sue stumbled a few steps from the momentum, and her eyes were wide with shock. There was a red imprint spread widely on her left cheek, and against the whiteness of the snow, it glowed even more brightly in contrast. Guilt flooded the She-Elf, but she was not about to show it, and instead, opted for covering her guilt with anger.

"I was your instructor for two months, and you had shown signs of potential," Elenmírë spat, shaking her head. "If I need to slap some sense into that empty brain of yours throughout this entire trip, I will not hesitate." She shook her head again before turning away. Hmm. Well, the statement _did_ make sense…

"We're a Fellowship!" Mary Sue cried out. "You're not supposed to hit me!"

"And you are not supposed to berate another for doing what is difficult to overcome," Elenmírë snapped, her eyes flashing. Hmm. Another wonderful point. She silently congratulated herself for her quick thinking. "I had taught you a lesson before, and believe me, I would not vacillate to do such a thing again. You still have much to learn."

"Elenmírë, that is not necessary," Boromir said more forcefully, and her head snapped quickly to look at him, unable to wipe away the surprised look of hurt from her face at his obvious disagreement with her behavior. "It is over. There is no need for more hostility." She crossed her arms in silent protestation, but she drew her lips to a line and gave a stiff nod before turning away.

The rest of the company was struck silent at the quickly escalating tension within the group, but no more was said that day about the incident, although Mary Sue's soft whining could be heard, and many pitied Legolas for the unfortunate position in being her main confidante. However, Gimli came to Legolas' rescue whenever her complaints became too much to handle, and he was a comic relief to the Elf whenever the young girl fell asleep from exhaustion, and it was the friendly banter between the two that helped keep the Prince of Mirkwood sane.

The Fellowship continued on their journey up across the mountain, and it was becoming difficult for them to breathe as the air was growing thinner. Snow was starting to fall heavily around them as the sharp wind bit at their faces, much to the annoyance of everyone other than the Elves, and the path that barely clung to the side of the mountain was shrinking away to a tiny strip. One false step could lead to a sharp drop into oblivion.

Suddenly, large frozen chunks of snow and rock began to fall upon them, and they pressed against the mountain's side for protection, all except for Legolas and Elenmírë, who had both easily run upon the snow to the edge of the cliff for they had heard a strange sound drifting into their sensitive ears.

"There is a fell voice on the air!" Legolas cried out to the rest of the company, and Elenmírë nodded, her heart pounding crazily at the evil electricity she could feel in the atmosphere.

"Yes, it sounds like chanting-" she began.

"It's Saruman!" Gandalf yelled in conclusion.

"He's trying to bring down the mountain!" Aragorn exclaimed in disbelief. "Gandalf, we must turn back!"

"No!" the Wizard screamed in defiance, lifting his staff and muttering words to appease Caradhras. Elenmírë looked desperately to Legolas in confusion, not knowing what to do. A streak of lightening flashed in the sky, its fiery end blasting the rocks just above them, and Elenmírë found herself losing her balance as the large boulders fell upon the company, followed by an avalanche of pressed snow that fell so quickly that she had no time to react or regain her footing. An unnatural scream escaped her lips as she was tumbling forward, but a pair of strong arms grabbed a hold of her. Legolas pulled her to him just in time as the snow completely buried them all.

Her eyes opened at the silence that had so rapidly covered her and found herself wrapped in Legolas's arms, and thick layers of snow walled them off from the others. She lifted her head up, and her gaze caught his. She had been so close to dropping over the edge, so close to meeting her death…

"You're not hurt?" he asked, his brow creased with worry as his fingertips softly stroked her cheek. She shook her head, unable to find her voice to answer him, and she mimicked his movements instead. The cold skin of his face was soft and smooth beneath her fingers, and despite the snow that had enveloped them, she was filled with warmth. He closed his eyes as if to relish her gentle caress, and she choked back a cry, wanting to stay in his arms but hating the situation that had brought them there. Fate had a twisted sense of humor, and it seemed it loved to play its cruelest jokes on her.

"No, Legolas, I'm not hurt," she said, finally finding her voice, and her lips trembled. "I was close to falling, b-but if you hadn't caught me…" There was pain written plainly across her face.

"Elenmírë," Legolas muttered, his voice strangled. He had been so close to losing her, so close to losing his heart, and his eyes conveyed an emotion he knew he had to profess before it was too late. "Elenmírë, amin mela lle. I love you." He pulled her closer to him and gently spoke into her ear. "The road is growing far more dangerous, and I would not dare take another step without telling you how I feel. Situations have delayed my confession for far too long, but before anything else can happen, you must know of my feelings for you whether you like it or not. I love you, I love you, oh Holy Valar, how I love you."

Her eyes had grown wide, her jaw dropped slightly, and all she could do was stare at the Elf who had captured her heart the moment she had first seen him. He was saying the words that she had craved to hear from him for the longest time, but now that they were spoken, she felt boundless joy and despair at the same moment. Tears glistened in her eyes as she shook her head, but he paid no heed to her protest for his lips devoured hers.

It was not the same as the tentative first kiss that they had shared nearly a month or so before. Fiery passion took a hold of both of them, and he was drinking her in, uniting their souls as he tasted her. He lightly nipped at her bottom lip with his teeth before claiming her tongue with his, and her moans, O Elbereth help him, her moans were driving him to the point of no return. Her fingers were lightly caressing his ears, sending a shiver through every single nerve of his body, and as he stroked the softness of her neck with his butterfly kisses, he could tell he had the same effect on her.

"You are mine, Elenmírë," he growled as they broke away from each other, and his eyes darkened with determination. "I will not lose you again."

"B-but, what about Boromir-" she objected helplessly, just as part of the snowy surface gave away, allowing a ray of dim light into their momentary sanctuary. A face peered down at them, and a hand soon followed to help pull them out.

"Elenmírë!" the face, Boromir, exclaimed, grabbing a hold of her as she wiggled out, and Legolas effortlessly followed after her. Boromir had his arms wrapped around her by the time Legolas had pulled himself out, and the Elf scowled angrily in their direction, which Boromir did not bother to notice.

"I am fine," she tried reassuring him, but he did not ease his hold on her.

"I had thought that you had gone over the edge!" he choked. "My heart was overcome with grief to think that the last words that I had spoken to you had hurt you and-"

"Boromir, I am fine!" she repeated fervently. "What is more important is that we get off this mountain immediately." She bit her bottom lip and lowered her voice only so that he could hear her. "And, as soon as we do, we must converse." Her eyes flicked to Legolas, her heart pounding. She knew what she had to do.

"Yes, of course," he readily agreed, smiling, but she was sure he did not understand her intended point. "There is much to say, so much more to say." He looked to the others as did she, and spoke urgently. "We must get off this mountain, make for the Gap of Rohan and take the west road to my city!"

"The Gap of Rohan takes us too close to Isenguard!" Aragorn argued.

"If we cannot pass over the mountain, let us go under it!" Gimli cried out, his eyes lighting up with excitement at the possibility. "Let us go through the Mines of Moria!" Both Elenmírë and Legolas visibly shook. Mines were dark, and more importantly, away from even the faintest hint of starlight. Elenmírë did not know exactly what it was to be without light, and the very thought of it scared her senseless. She looked to Gandalf, silently pleading with him to look for another alternative; anything was better than the shadows of a mine!

"Let the Ringbearer decide," Gandalf finally declared, and all eyes were turned to Frodo; he lay huddled next to Aragorn. He stared about him, shocked at first, then sighing in resignation.

"We will go through the mines," he stated clearly, and Gandalf closed his eyes before gazing out to the rest of the company and nodding.

"So be it."

* * *

TBC...  



	14. Chapter Thirteen: The Bridge of Khazad D...

**Disclaimer:** Previously stated disclaimers apply.

**Author's Note:** Okay, I'm skipping the part about the Wargs after Caradhras. This chapter is going to go be following the movie version.  
_01/17/06_ - Once again, there aren't many major changes; just grammatical corrections and what have you.

**The Imperfect One**  
By: Goddess-Isis-112

Chapter Thirteen: The Bridge of Khazad-Dûm

Gimli was by Gandalf's side with wide, eager eyes as they approached the looming mountainsides, dark with shadows.

"The walls of Moria!" he stammered in awe, and with quick feet, he rushed ahead while the others felt their hearts sinking. It was a desolate place; there were no signs of life, no sounds of running water as Gandalf had expected. Elenmírë shuddered, not from the cold, but from the growing sense of unease that was eating at her instinct. She wanted to flee from the horrible place. Gimli looked back to the company from far ahead as he pointed to their right; there was a narrow channel of nothing save a few brown- and red-colored rocks and stones, and beside it lay a ruined path that curved around with the mountain wall.

"Finally," Gandalf sighed with a nod of his head, "this is where the Sirannon, the Gate Stream, had run. This place has indeed changed, for I know not where the water may now be." They found the reason soon enough when a dull, lusterless lake greeted them, blocking their path to the Elven Door at the end of the road from Hollin, and knew they had to find a way around it. They continued on the main path, though it was dark under the mountain's shadow, and it grew steep and narrow.

The company traveled ever farther, following Gimli as the path grew slimy from the water, and their footing was unstable. A foot would slip now and then, and everyone, especially the Hobbits, hated the feel of the unclean water touching their weary feet. Two large holly trees that loomed over them as they drew nearer, pressed against the mountain walls and stretching its roots into the dark water, and Gandalf turned around to inform the rest of the company.

"We are here at last!" he said. "This is the Elven-way from Hollin. Those were happier days, when there was still close friendship at times between folk of different race, even between Dwarves and Elves."

"It was not the fault of the Dwarves that the friendship waned," Gimli immediately replied, placing his hands on his hips arrogantly. "Humph."

"I have not heard it was the fault of the Elves," scoffed Legolas, his eyes flashing, and Elenmírë bit back a smile, not wanting to irritate the Dwarf. Despite the war of words that always battled between the two, Legolas and Gimli were slowly growing closer, and the bond of friendship already had a stable foundation to build upon.

"Ithildin," Gandalf muttered carefully, wiping away dirt from the wall to uncover a bit of the door's pattern. "It mirrors only moonlight and starlight." Elenmírë looked up into the night sky, her eyes glowing as the moon shyly peaked through the dark grey clouds. Oh, how she hated the thought of leaving the moonlight behind once inside the mines! She shuddered and looked away to the wall, which now had the shimmering outline of a door plastered on its surface. Her jaw dropped slightly. It was beyond beautiful. There, emblazoned within the pattern was an arch of interlacing Elvish characters, and below it were an anvil and a hammer surmounted by a crown and seven stars. Beneath these were two trees, each bearing crescent moons, but the most dominant feature was the star in the center of the door that shone with many rays.

"The emblems of Durin!" Gimli uttered, flabbergasted.

"There is the Tree of the High Elves!" Legolas exclaimed.

"And the Star of the House of Fëanor," Gandalf informed. "The lettering reads, 'The Doors of Durin, Lord of Moria. Speak, friend, and enter.'"

"What do you suppose that means?" Merry inquired, his eyes still wide at the sight of the ithildin entrance.

"It's quite simple," Gandalf explained. "If you are a friend, you speak the password of it, and the doors will open." Pressing his staff to the star in the center, he muttered in a clear voice, "Annon edhellen, edro hi ammen!" _Gate of the Elves, open now for me! _

They waited.

Silence.

Gimli looked impatiently at the Wizard as he repeated the words, but nothing happened, and sighing, Elenmírë made herself comfortable as she leaned lazily against one of the trees. If Gandalf did not know how to get in, how would they? It would be a long night…

Boromir approached her, and she grew uneasy once more. She loved him, and she did not want to hurt him, but she was dying inside to be deceiving him the way she was. Legolas caught her eye and nodded in encouragement, giving her a lopsided smile which instantly melted the anxiety in her heart, and she recalled the words that he had said to her when they had been buried underneath snow, the words that had so much passion and love behind them:

_"I love you, I love you, oh Holy Valar, how I love you…You are mine, Elenmírë…"_

How was she supposed to face Boromir now? As he gently took her hand in his before bestowing a loving kiss on her palm, she debated whether or not this was the time to do such a thing…to tell him the truth. But there never was going to be a perfect time to do it, she realized, because no matter where or when she would tell him, the result would be the same: Boromir was bound to be heart broken.

"Boromir-" she started, but he shushed her with a kiss. She grew stiff and immobile, and he pulled away again, the hurt that had before crossed his features now on display once more.

"What is it that ails you?" he asked softly, not attempting to hide the pain from his voice. "When I reach for you now, you freeze, as if you no longer want this…as if you no longer want me." She bit her lip and felt the words come up her throat, but she was choking them back. His fair face was contorted with denial, and yet…there was a slight tremble on his lips that almost gave the impression that he _knew_ was about to happen.

_'Oh, gods, I cannot do this!'_ Elenmírë thought frantically, her eyes quickly shooting to Legolas for support, but he was not paying attention. In fact, he was rather occupied at the moment with a certain human girl who had managed to lean against him. He looked rather uncomfortable, but why, in Elbereth's name, did he not just push her away? _'Has he taken to the Halflings' weed!'_ her heart cried out. _'What does he think he is he doing?'_

She turned back to Boromir and looked deeply into his eyes. The poor man was confused, torn, and completely at a loss as to what to say or what to do to show his love for her. All this she could see on his face, and she lifted her hand to smooth away the lines of worry that troubled him. His eyes closed at her touch, and she felt a sob rising in her throat but suppressed it. She could not hurt this man, this man who had given his love to her without question, without pause. He had loved her and had shown it, while it took Legolas a near-death experience to confess his heart…and how did she know he did not say those things out of pity or out of guilt at what had passed between them that night under the gazebo? She glanced back over to Legolas who still remained in his spot by Mary Sue, who in turn was delighted at his attention. Legolas really had nothing to lose while Elenmírë did. Not only would she lose Boromir's love, she would also be at the receiving end of Mary Sue's anger, and although she would not admit this to anyone, Elenmírë did _not _want to deal with her again for Mary Sue was beginning to show signs of a truly strong warrior, and Elenmírë was not sure she could even defeat the girl in battle. The Prophecy was beginning to take root…

Boromir's eyes opened to study her face, and she softened almost immediately. She loved Boromir, and would not dare to think of hurting him. Legolas had his chance, and she was not going to let him be the reason for throwing away the love that she and Boromir shared. If they were to break apart from each other, it would not be because she wanted another. She was not about to give Legolas _that_ much credit. Still, she spoke not one word, and the worry returned to Boromir's face.

"Please, love, what is it that troubles you?" he asked softly but urgently, and she smiled softly, touched with his concern for her. She swept a strand of hair away from his face and tucked it behind his ear, loving the silkiness of his hair between her fingertips.

"The same thing that troubles the rest of the company," she answered softly. "Never did I imagine that this journey would be as terrifying as it has been, and lately, I've been wondering about how horrible it will grow to be. It unnerves me." She settled in his arms, and he accepted her answer without question.

"I had nearly lost my heart when I had thought you had gone over the cliff," he whispered, shuddering. "And, I realized that I cannot live my life without you, so I must make this official, before another word is spoken." Her head snapped up, and she stared at him, her heart thumping madly. She felt her face drain itself of color, and her ability to breathe had somehow become more laborious than normal.

"W-what do you mean, exactly?" she questioned, her voice barely audible. He took both of her hands in his and placed them near his heart, and she could instantly feel the crazy aerobics it was performing.

"This may not be the most romantic spot to do such a thing," he started nervously, "but, Elenmírë, I love you, and I know I do not have the gift of sweet words, but I-I ask you to bless me with the joy of calling you my wife. Please, say you will marry me." Her jaw dropped further than she thought possible; why hadn't she seen this coming? The signs were so obvious, especially after he had 'rescued' her from the snow. She could not speak, she could not indicate her answer with a nod or a shake of her head for she was frozen stiff. Boromir started to shift on his feet, and his hands gripped tightly on hers. His voice shook when he spoke, insecurity grabbing a hold of him. "Elenmírë?"

"Yes?" she blabbered, and then shook her head before closing her eyes and breathing deeply. This is what she wanted, was it not? All those lonely nights, all those years of solitude were now being swept away with his promise of marriage; she had found someone who loved her and actually wanted to marry her, and she had prayed to the Valar for so long, and she was not one to throw away a gift that They had so generously provided her with...She reopened her eyes and smiled softly at him. "What I mean to say is…yes. Yes, I will." Boromir broke out into a wide smile as he engulfed her in his arms, and he buried his face in the crook of her neck, whispering how much he loved her. Tears were on his face as well as on hers, and from afar, Legolas watched the scene, nodding, noticing only the tears at first.

"So she has told him then," he said softly to himself, but…what was that? A smile on his face? _'Boromir is taking this better than I had thought he would,'_ he mused silently, but when Elenmírë locked eyes with Legolas and shook her head in his direction, he felt a foreboding sense of dread. He took another look at Boromir and distinguished the wide smile on his face as one drawn from happiness. _'What is going on?'_ he mused in a panic, and he looked down at Mary Sue, who had started to babble about something called 'movies.' "Excuse me, Mary Sue," he said, keeping his voice steady, "but I am going to see what their celebration is all about." He gestured to Elenmírë and Boromir, and Mary Sue scowled.

"But this is important-" she started, but he had turned without saying another word, giving her his back. She quickly chased after him, though with his Elven speed, he had already reached the couple. Mary Sue arrived in time to hear a single word escape Legolas's surprised lips.

"Betrothed?" he uttered in complete disbelief, his hurt blatantly displayed on his face, which went unnoticed by all save Elenmírë. His heart was still denying the words that Boromir had stammered in elation. Mary Sue was jumping up and down.

"Oh, how _wonderful_!" she squealed, clapping her hands. Her eyes immediately went to Legolas and she wrapped an arm around his waist, leaning her head against his chest. He made no move to push her away, but instead, he was filled with an unspeakable anger and urge to hurt Elenmírë any way he could, and his arm found its way around Mary Sue's shoulders to hold her closer. He smiled at Elenmírë, but his blue eyes were ice-cold like glaciers, and his gaze burned her far worse than the hottest of fires.

"That it is," he said calmly, reaching out his other hand to Boromir. "Congratulations." Elenmírë's tears rolled down her face at his reaction, wanting to be back in Imladris, away from the two males who had such an impact on her life. Wondering about what love was was far more endurable than experiencing the pain that had started to throb in heart at the ache she was causing Legolas at that moment. _'Oh, Elbereth, please let him forgive me!'_ she silently prayed, hoping her apology was visible in her eyes as they locked with his. He turned away from her, a sneer on his lips, refusing to look into her eyes again.

All the while, Gandalf was still futilely trying all the passwords that had come to mind (he had now resorted to yelling, "Edro, edro!" or _Open, open!_), and Aragorn looked dismally at Sam as he began to unload their packs from Bill's back.

"The mines are no place for a pony," Aragorn said softly, "not even one so brave as Bill." Sam bit his lip to prevent from crying out, though tears stung beneath his eyelids. His hand trembled has he gave Bill one last pat.

"Bye, bye, Bill," he stammered unevenly, his chest heaving with sadness. He turned away as Bill continued back down the path that they had taken. Aragorn clasped Sam's shoulder in reassurance.

"Don't worry, Sam," he soothed. "He knows the way home."

Being the active Hobbits they were, Merry and Pippin had started to throw rocks into the eerily placid lake, and Aragorn rushed to them, stopping their motions. "Do not disturb the water!" he warned urgently. The ripples that had been caused by the thrown stones were now growing suspiciously larger, and Pippin's eyes filled with silent fear as he stumbled away from the water's edge.

"It's a riddle!" Frodo suddenly cried out excitedly. "What's the Elvish word for friend?" He looked at Gandalf expectedly, whose eyebrows went up in realization.

"_Mellon_," he replied, and the walls began to crack open. In stunned amazement, the Fellowship turned at the sound, and gazed in disbelief into the darkness that lay just beyond the door. Gandalf led the way, a light emitting from his staff, and Gimli eagerly followed him.

"Soon, Master Elf, you will enjoy the fabled hospitality of the dwarves!" Gimli cried out to Legolas who had followed just behind him, though with more hesitation than the Dwarf. "Roaring fires, malt beer, red meat off the bone! This my friend is the home of my cousin Balin. And they call it a mine!" He chuckled heavily. "A mine!" Legolas, however, hardly acknowledged his words, his gaze only on Elenmírë and Boromir, unable to stop the crying of his heart.

Elenmírë gripped Boromir's hand in trepidation as she stepped into the darkness, and she let out a gasp when she came face to face with a skeleton clad in mail and hung on a wall by a well place arrow through the heart.

"This is no mine!" Boromir exclaimed, his foot crunching on bone. "It's a tomb!" Gandalf's light spread across the entrance hall, and Gimli's eyes widened at the sight before him. Strewn across the floor were mutilated skeletons of his kin, and arrows and axes were scattered across and through their bodies. The dust and cobwebs indicated that they had been in this condition for quite some time.

"No!" Gimli groaned in horror. "Nooooo!" Legolas reached over to one of the bodies and pulled an arrow out of it to study its tip.

"Goblins," he sneered angrily, throwing the object to the floor before reaching for his own bow and arrow. Elenmírë unsheathed her sword and gripped its hilt, and the faint moonlight that shone through the doorway reflected off her blade, giving her some comfort, but the idea of goblins gave her the chills. She edged toward the door.

"We make for the Gap of Rohan!" Boromir urged. "We never should have come here! Now get out of here, get out!" Elenmírë did a complete about face, but was horrified to see that tentacles reached out to the Hobbits.

"Ah!" Frodo was suddenly airborne, held upside down by a slithery arm, and Sam ran after him, calling out.

"Strider!" Sam's voice brought all the attention to the Hobbits, and the two Men, two Elves, and Dwarf rushed out, attacking and slicing at the dark creature's tentacles, but Frodo was suddenly free falling in the air. Aragorn had sliced the arm that had held him up, and Frodo fell directly into Boromir's awaiting arms, and they rushed back into the mine. The dark creature was not one to give up as it reached out to the doors, but the rock crumbled underneath its weight, and smashed the creature in place, trapping the Fellowship inside.

There was no light. Elenmírë stood shivering in the darkness, close to breaking down. All she could hear was the hard breathing of those around her, and she tried to calm her own heart from the adrenaline that had consumed her body, but the darkness was deafening; she could not control her shaking. A warm body moved to her, and she clung to it, not caring who it was, but the familiar smell of wood and spice made her want to retract from Legolas. She pulled away slightly, but his arm held her to him, so severely that she nearly cried out in pain.

"Legolas," she whimpered, "you're hurting me." He relaxed but never let her go.

"And you do the same to me, my love," he replied, and he was suddenly gone, leaving her to tremble alone in the darkness, the coldness of the mine contrasting sharply with the lingering warmth of his body pressed to hers.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, a lone tear trekking its way down her cheek, and was not at all aware that Legolas had heard her. Immediately, he felt himself constrict with guilt and moved toward her to take her back into his arms and apologize for his stupid pride, but Gandalf's staff suddenly came back to life with light, and Elenmírë ran toward the old wizard, determined to stay as close to him as possible.

"Quiet now," he warned. "It is a four day journey to the other side. Let us hope that our presence may go unnoticed."

'Four days!' she wanted to scream. '_Four_ bloody days!' She felt faint, unable to continue, but a reassuring hand grabbed hers, and she looked down to see Merry and Pippin look up at her with concern reflecting in their soft brown eyes. She smiled and allowed them to drag her with them, but she could not seep the panic out of her system. Her eyes were wide and wild as she looked this way and that, jumping at every sound her sensitive ears picked up. They carried on in silence, pausing every now and then to rest.

Legolas was not having an easier time than Elenmírë, but he was much better at hiding his fears than she was. Mary Sue's unbelievably soft hand had wheedled its way into his, and he was too frightened to pull away from her. He was grateful for the physical contact; it assured him that he was not alone in the darkness, but he could not help but wish it was Elenmírë he was holding on to. He thought back to the night of the ball when they had first danced, and he could not help but wonder at the strength he felt vibrate from within her very essence. He knew that was the kind of strength he longed to feel again, especially now when there was no natural light to comfort him, but all he got was a soft, feminine hand that had a mighty grip upon his fingers.

Elenmírë…the only one who had totally captured his heart was the same one to have broken it. He shook his head. His father had been right; one day, he had said, Legolas would meet his match. Legolas had just laughed it off as if it were nothing of importance, but now he knew how it felt for the ones he had rejected in the past. He finally understood the emotion behind the tears that many females before had cried when he had easily dismissed them for he had now fallen madly in love, but Elenmírë was not his to have.

He was angry and felt betrayed, but he had a nagging feeling that he was somehow to blame for all this, and yet, she was the one who apologized, even when it was not absolutely necessary for he knew in his heart, the anger he had felt was not with her but with himself. And this only made him love her even more and despise himself. He was a fool…such a fool.

The tug on his hand shook him out of his thoughts, and he looked down at Mary Sue in question. She merely nodded in Gandalf's direction, who said as if on cue, "I have no memory of this place." They had climbed up a labyrinth of stairwells only to have reached a platform of three doorways, and not one looked incredibly friendly. Gandalf perched himself on the top step while others made refuge under a part of the stairwell that opened into a small balcony.

Elenmírë sat next to Boromir who protectively put an arm around her, and she rested her head in the crook where his shoulders met his neck, and he played with her fingers, which she somehow managed to keep impeccably clean throughout their journey. 'The perks of being Half-Elven,' she thought idly, studying the dirt that covered his hands.

Boromir took this opportune moment to quietly inform the rest of the Fellowship of their engagement, which brought smiles across the half circle that they had formed, taking their minds off of their journey for a while, and Merry and Pippin were the first to jump up and squeal quietly that Boromir had better take good care of their Elven friend for he would have to answer to them if he didn't. This brought a round of light chuckles, and Legolas smirked at the idea. _'He'd have to deal with me first,'_ he thought viciously, wanting to rip Boromir's arm away from her shoulders, and he suppressed his inner assassin from taking control and killing the Man of Gondor.

"It will be a long engagement of course," Boromir whispered quietly, smiling sadly as he kissed Elenmírë's cheek. The others nodded in understanding, their thoughts returning to the journey at hand. Time passed slowly as they waited for Gandalf to make a decision, but he was still perched upon his step with his pipe in hand, and the area was soon covered with smoke, which Elenmírë crinkled her nose at.

"Are we lost?" Pippin whispered, his voice sound much louder with no noise about them.

"No!" Merry scolded impatiently, taking a puff from his pipe.

"I think we are."

"Shh, Gandalf's thinking!"

"Merry?"

"What?"

"I'm hungry," Pippin whined softly, his stomach grumbling in agreement, and Elenmírë wished she had something to feed the poor hungry Hobbit. She was quite relieved once again that although she was Half-Elven, she could endure long hours, even _days_, without food, but she gave the Took a small smile, praying that they find a way out of the dank mines and return to the blessed realms of sunlight.

"Ah, it is that way!" Gandalf's voice called out to them, and he pointed excitedly to the one on the right.

"He's remembered!" Merry cried out, getting up enthusiastically.

"No, but the air does not smell so foul down here," Gandalf chuckled as they gathered their belongings and joined the Wizard at the door. "If in doubt, Meriadoc, always follow your nose." They followed the staircase steadily upward for hours upon hours, and when Elenmírë thought they would never stop, it open into a large, wide cavern with high columns and pillars holding a vast roof over their heads. It was great hall, and its black walls glimmered and shone like long-forgotten jewels when Gandalf whispered, "Let me risk a little more light."

Her eyes widened and her mouth fell completely open. Never before had she deemed Dwarves artistic enough to create a place of such beauty that it could rival the dwellings of the Elves. She shot a look of appreciation toward the Dwarf of the Fellowship, and he as well was overcome with awe.

"Behold!" the Wizard exclaimed. "The great realm of the Dwarf city of Dwarrowdelf!"

"There's an eye-opener, make no mistake!" Sam gasped, as wide-eyed as the rest of the company. They continued walking quietly through, twisting their heads this way and that to take in as much of their surroundings as they could. Suddenly, Gimli broke into a full run, letting out a cry of surprise as he darted into an open doorway, and visible from where they had stood, a ray of light shone on…a _tomb_. The company rushed to catch up with the Dwarf, but as they entered the eerily lit room, Gimli was at the foot of the tomb, his head bowed as he sobbed.

"'Here lies Balin, son of Fundin, Lord of Moria,'" Gandalf carefully read the inscription on its surface. "He is dead then." Boromir moved to Gimli's side, and placed a comforting hand on his shoulder which Gimli acknowledged with a slight nod, but he could not cease his tears. Gandalf removed his hat and handed it along with his staff to Pippin, who stood closest to him, as he picked up a thick book from the arms of a skeleton which lay resting on the tomb's side.

"We must move on," Legolas whispered urgently to Aragorn. "We cannot linger." His hands twitched slightly as he gripped onto his bow, and he looked over at Elenmírë who bit her lip in fear and anxiety. He had to do something, to wipe that expression away, and moved to her, ignoring the look of disbelief on Mary Sue's face as he gently squeezed Elenmírë's hand in reassurance. He whispered to her in Elvish, "I am sorry."

A look of confusion covered her face as she also responded in their language. "Why?" But he could not answer for Gandalf had begun to speak, finding the final entry in the large volume.

"'They have taken the bridge, and the second hall,'" he read from it. "'We have barred the gates, but cannot hold them for long. The ground shakes. Drums, drums in the deep. We cannot get out. A shadow moves in the dark.

"We cannot get out. They are coming."

Elenmírë shuddered at the words for they chilled her down to her bones, but Legolas moved away from her as Boromir turned to look for her. However, everyone froze, for there, by a well, was Pippin, who had accidentally knocked a fully clad skeleton down it, and the sound reverberated throughout the room and seemed to echo throughout the entire mine itself. With each loud bang, the tension in the room increased, and then silence. Frozen to their spots, they waited for any signs that they were heard, but as the silence sustained for a few more seconds, they all let out a slow, collective breath.

Exhaling, everyone save Elenmírë glared at the shaken Took, and Gandalf snatched his hat and staff from the poor hobbit. "Fool of a Took!" he growled. "Throw yourself in next time and rid us of your stupidity!" They turned to leave, but another sound greeted them, and this time they knew they would not leave without a fight.

_Doom, boom, doom, boom._

Mary Sue gasped loudly at the sound and all eyes fled to Frodo's now shining sword, Sting.

Boom, doom, boom, doom.

"Orcs!" Legolas hissed, and Boromir rushed to the door but was thrust back as two arrows nearly sliced through his head.

Doom, boom, doom, boom.

"Boromir!" Elenmírë cried out, wanting to rush to his side, but seeing that he was uninjured, she stayed close to the Hobbits, especially Pippin, who could not stop the trembling that had overtaken his body.

"They have a cave troll!" Boromir groaned as he and Aragorn barraged the door shut with the extra axes lying on the floor near the dead bodies, and everyone took their positions, weapons in hand.

"Let them come!" Gimli growled angrily, his eyes flashing red with anger. "There is one Dwarf yet in Moria who still draws blood!"

Elenmírë, too, uncovered her sword, and whispered a soft prayer to the Valar to give her strength. The loud banging had now reached the door, and she smiled slightly. With all the anger and frustration building within herself for the past several weeks, she was itching to get back to fighting, and her smile grew ever wider, knowing that these Orcs had no idea who they were about to deal with. The familiar warrior spirit within her soul came alive as an ax sliced through the door, and almost instantly, Legolas released an arrow through the narrow slit with such precision that the intruder fell dead before it had another chance to break down the door.

Mary Sue had found her way to Elenmírë's side, and she was holding her sword the way Elenmírë had taught her, and she looked to her teacher with fear written plainly across her face.

"Just remember what I had taught you," the She-Elf instructed before the door had come crashing down from all the pressure of the gathering band of orcs. "Trust in yourself, Mary Sue, but do not underestimate your enemy! Do not be afraid!" The girl nodded as the orcs swarmed through the room, and Elenmírë ran charging, her sword swinging, and with one attack, she cleanly sliced through three black backs, and they fell down behind her with a satisfying _thump._ Another charged at her, with his arms raised high carrying an ax, but she quickly sliced across its neck. Its head fell off and black ooze splattered across her tunic, and she frowned slightly.

"Stupid, idiotic creature," she muttered, twirling out of the way as one aimed an arrow in her direction, narrowly missing her heart. She was about to do a vertical chop to cut the thing in half, but an arrow suddenly protruded through its back to its chest and it fell down, revealing a grim-faced Legolas standing behind him. He nodded in her direction, mouthing, '_Amin mela lle' _to her before he quickly began attacking more of the villains that had come streaming through to door.

The company as a whole was staying alive while successfully killing the orcs that continued on harassing them, and the numbers of the enemy were dwindling, but a huge grunt and the sound of crushed rock forced Elenmírë to gaze at the huge, grey, ugly cave troll that had now entered the room. Never in her life had she seen a creature so hideous, but she felt her eyes grow wide with fear when she saw it swing its angry arms one way and then the other, killing multiple orcs in an attempt to grab Gimli. Though stout and a bit heavy, the Dwarf managed to dodge the troll's attacks, and Elenmírë moved to help him, slicing at the troll's arm with her blade. It growled as it focused its attention on the She-Elf, forgetting about the Dwarf, but she was quick and easily moved away when it tried desperately to grab her.

Arrows were shot at the back of its head, and it swerved around, finding Legolas standing on a ledge, and it began to swing its chain at its new target, but Legolas easily avoided being hit. The chain caught around a pillar, and the Elf used this to his advantage, running up the chain and balancing himself on the beast's shoulders as he shot another arrow directly at the troll's head. He leapt off before it could grab him, and the troll focused on creatures who seemed more vulnerable than the warrior Elves and Dwarf. He had found the Hobbits.

Merry, Pippin and Frodo had managed to stick together while Sam was on the main floor knocking orcs unconscious with his kitchenware, but now they stood immobile at the sight of the troll and did not know what to do. The troll rammed his weapon between Merry, Pippin, and Frodo, isolating the latter into a tiny corner, and Elenmírë fought her way through five more orcs in an attempt to keep the troll away from the Fellowship's most important member, but the more she killed, the more attacked her, and she was unable to reach the hobbit in time.

Aragorn had found his way to Frodo's side and, grabbing a spear, he trust it deep into the troll's chest, and it groaned in agony before sweeping Aragorn away, flinging him against the wall, where he lay motionless.

"Aragorn!" Elenmírë cried out, her heart beating wildly with fury. "No! You demon!" Without another thought, she sliced her way through ten more orcs. _'I made a promise to Arwen,'_ she thought angrily, _'and I do not intend to see it broken by an ugly troll!'_ There were no more orcs for her to attack, and she crossed the room to reach Frodo, but it was too late. The troll had taken the spear that Aragorn had used and stabbed the tiny hobbit in his side.

"Frodo!" Sam cried beside the She-Elf; she had not been aware of his presence, but now, she could feel his body shaking with sobs. Tears sprang to her own eyes, but she kept them at bay, breathing heavily. She felt her insides begin to constrict then expand, and she was suddenly aware of a light that began to glow from inside of her. Her eyes flashed dangerously, and she let out a tortured cry, raising her sword high above her head as she began to swing in one fluid motion at the trolls arms and legs, and she became a golden blur at its feet, too fast for it to detect where its attacker was coming from.

Merry and Pippin had jumped onto its shoulders and were stabbing madly into its back, and Gandalf and Gimli were each taking turns in stabbing the creature from the front. Mary Sue was at Frodo's side, unable to move from the spot as she studied his still figure, and tears were streaming down her face. Boromir was with Sam as they fought off the last of the orcs, and Aragorn was slowly coming to. Legolas finally joined the fray against the troll, aiming his arrow for its high forehead, and with one snap, he had hit his target.

The troll slowed its movements, swaying unsteadily from left to right until it fell face first to the ground. They all glared hatefully at the creature before rushing to Frodo's side. Aragorn was the first to reach him, and he gently pushed Mary Sue away as he turned the hobbit over off the spear.

He was…breathing! Frodo was alive, but how was that possible!

"I'm alright," Frodo managed to say as he sat up. "I'm not hurt."

"You should be dead!" Aragorn gasped, unable to keep the surprise from his voice. "That spear would have skewered a wild boar!"

"I think there is more to this hobbit than meets the eye," Gandalf said, his eyes twinkling with mischief as Frodo unbuttoned the top of his shirt, revealing a silvery mail of metal.

"Mithril!" Gimli exclaimed. "You are full of surprises, Master Baggins!" Shrieks and screams drifted into the room, and Gandalf groaned. Shadows were growing closer and closer and they followed the wizard out of the room.

"To the Bridge of Khazad-Dûm!" he ordered. They fled out into the large hall that they had first walked into, and black creatures were crawling everywhere from out of the crevices in the ceiling and from the cracks in the floor. There were so many goblins and orcs that they began to blend together in one black wave that was threatening to consume their tiny party of eleven. Gandalf paused ahead of them, seeing that their way was blocked, and they each turned around in all directions but they were completely surrounded. Ugly, mutilated faces glared and sneered at them, and they drew closer, as if closing in on their prey…

A large growl echoed through the hall, growing louder and louder and more tangible. The motley crew of goblins and orcs trembled and cowered at the sound, slowly easing away from the Fellowship, and Elenmírë wondered what in the world could scare a huge army like the one that had congregated around them. She looked to Gandalf who had his head bowed, as if trying to deny what he knew. The menacing presence drew closer, and she studied the flashes of red and orange light dancing on the walls…as if it were engulfed in flame…

"What is this new devilry?" she heard Boromir utter.

"A Balrog," Gandalf sighed heavily, leaning on his staff for support. "A demon of the ancient world. This foe is beyond any of you. Run!" She gasped at the information but she fled along beside the wizard, running through the doorway that stood at the end of the hallway. It led down a stairwell which had a huge piece missing in its middle. Legolas jumped across the fissure first and cried for Gandalf to follow him, which he did with ease. The gap was not huge, but what lay beneath was a far drop to what seemed like a molten lava pit, and that made the seemingly easy jump all the more terrifying. Elenmírë grabbed a hold of Pippin as Boromir grabbed a hold of Merry, and they jumped together. The combined weight off all them caused about three more stairs to fall down into the abyss below, widening the gap. Elenmírë's heart was pounding. How were the rest going to get across?

An arrow whizzed by her head, and she turned sharply to her right and groaned. Orcs were gathering high above and shooting down at them, but not with the greatest accuracy, and for this, she was thankful. Legolas had begun to fire back as Aragorn tossed Sam across the opening, and she easily caught him. Aragorn reached for Gimli, but he held up a hand in protest.

"Nobody tosses a Dwarf!" he scoffed, and he took a leap, his feet just barely making contact, and Legolas reached out and grabbed the only thing that he could to pull his friend to safety: his beard. "Not the beard!" he protested, but Legolas ignored him, and grabbed him, catching the Dwarf in his arms until he could regain his balance. Now all that remained were Aragorn, Frodo and Mary Sue.

Several more stairs had fallen from the stairwell, and the Balrog was slowly at their heels. Its loud snarl echoed to them, and its heavy approach could be felt as if an earthquake had ensued each of its steps. There was a loud crack, and a part of an arch of the ceiling came tumbling down just behind where the remaining members of the company stood, and it broke their section free from the stairwell. If they leaned to either side, they would lose the three of them in a heartbeat, and they could not let that happen for they were the three of the most important ones: The Ringbearer, The Rightful King of Gondor, and The Prophesized One.

_'Aragorn and Frodo, oh Holy Valar, save them!'_ Elenmírë silently prayed, her heart fluttering with alarm. She held her breath as their section teetered, and she could hear Aragorn call out, "Lean forward!" To her amazement, they were suddenly coming towards them, and she opened her arms, as it made contact with their part of the stairwell, and Aragorn fell to her, as Frodo did to Boromir and Mary Sue to Legolas. A smile spread across her face as the top section slipped away, and they continued down to the stairwell to level ground without anymore trouble, though they could feel the heat of the Balrog just behind them. When she turned her head for a moment, she was struck down with horror at the enormity of the evil creature. It was huge and completely engulfed in flames, and she forced her legs to carry her as far as they could, just as long as she never had to face the horrible creature ever again. They spotted the bridge just in front of them, and she ushered the hobbits and Mary Sue ahead of her before she slipped across the narrow path of the bridge herself, and as she turned around, Aragorn, Boromir, and Legolas followed respectively. They reached the other side safely, but Gandalf stood still in the middle of the Bridge, his staff and Glamdring in his hand.

"You cannot pass!" Gandalf screamed, his rage building a strange light around him. The Balrog lifted out a sword of fire and chopped it down against the wizard, and Elenmírë's jaw dropped in amazement as the wizard remained unscathed.

"Gandalf!" Frodo cried and ran forward, but Elenmírë grabbed him and held him back. There was no way he would be of any help if he interfered, and she herself had to stifle her own urge to run down there and grab the wizard to safety. She held her breath, unable to tear her gaze away from the sight before her, despite the fact that it frightened her to no end.

"I am a servant of the Secret Fire, wielder of the Flame of Anor!" the Wizard growled. "The Dark Fire will not avail you, Flame of Udun!" The Balrog cracked his whip threateningly and took a step forward. "Go back to the shadow! You shall not pass!" Gandalf slammed his staff to the ground, sending a force of white light in the direction of the dark creature, and it flinchingly stepped away. It growled again before venturing forward, but the bridge gave away under its feet, taking it into the bleak chasm below.

Elation rose in Elenmírë's chest, and she also felt a relaxation in the Frodo's body as she held onto him. Gandalf was still alive, and the Balrog had fallen! The wizard breathed a sigh of relief and turned to join the company, but suddenly, there was another loud crack of a whip, and its fiery fingers wound its way around the wizards feet, dragging him along. His arms caught the edge of the remaining bridge, and Frodo struggled against Elenmírë's hold to come to his dearest friend's aid.

"Gandalf!" he half-shouted, half-cried, kicking his feet into the air as Elenmírë picked him up and moved to the exit.

"Fly, you fools!" Gandalf muttered, his eyes wide but determined, and he relinquished his hold, falling into the obscurity of the chasm. It took another second before they all reacted again, and in her shock, Elenmírë lost her grip on the Ringbearer, but he ran directly into Boromir's arms who picked him up.

"No!" the hobbit sputtered, desperately trying to free himself. "Gandalf! No! Gandalf!" Boromir ran past Elenmírë as she stood frozen, her eyes never leaving the dark abyss, but Boromir caught hold of her hand, practically dragging her out through the door that brought them out into the world of light.

Aragorn had slowly come out after them, his eyes closed as he tried to steady his breathing. Boromir, struggling with his tears of grief, held Gimli tight; the Dwarf was ready to go back and fight all of the demons of Moria if the Man of Gondor had not had his hold on him. The hobbits lay huddled on the floor with Mary Sue, their sobs full of misery, and Elenmírë…she fell to the ground, tears dripping down her cheeks as she curled into a ball. She was brought back again to the time in her childhood when she had first heard the news of her mother's capture; the same hurt and confusion were raging in a storm deep inside her soul, and her heart felt weak, as if it were growing fainter. She rocked back and forth, trying to deny what she had seen, but she knew he was gone. Gandalf, her long-time friend and advisor had fallen into the shadow, and the raw pain gnawed at her insides, and she gasped for air. This was the worst she had ever felt, and she looked down at her hands…they were losing their color, and she felt herself growing pale. She was cold, so cold…She closed her eyes, wishing everything to be the way it used to be, but she knew that when she opened her eyes, Gandalf would not be there to greet her with his knowing smile. She knew when she opened her eyes, she would be alone in her tightly curled ball trying to fight off the misery she was feeling, and she shook her head violently. _'This is not happening this is not happening this is not happening this is not happening…'_ The mantra repeated itself over and over in her head, and in an instant she stopped moving, but not on her own account. Warmth wrapped around her, and she opened her tear-filled eyes in surprise, and she whispered one word before she collapsed, falling into the arms of the one who loved her.

"Legolas…"

Little did they all know how close she was to dying at that very moment.

* * *

TBC..  



	15. Chapter Fourteen: Arrival in Lothlórien

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing except my original characters.

**Author's Note:** _01/17/06_ - It's weird because the brackets that I once used to indicate that Elvish was being spoken are no longer in this chapter when I opened it up to edit it so...hm. All I can say is that ifElenmírë is talking with Haldir, she is most likely speaking in Elvish unless indicated otherwise, lol.

**The Imperfect One**  
By: Goddess-Isis-112

**Chapter Fourteen: Arrival in Lothlórien**

There were soft voices in the air, and although none sounded vaguely familiar, the language definately was. It was that of the Silvan folk from the East, and although Elenmírë had never traveled beyond the borders of Imladris, Lord Elrond had taught her well in speech. Her eyes fluttered open, and she looked up in confusion at the golden leaves that shimmered just above her head. She was in a tree, that was certain, but even with her Elven eyes, she could not discern where the tops finally reached out to the sky's embrace. She knew she was flat on her back, but it did not feel as though she were lying prone on a mere branch. She tried to lift her head slowly, but a wave of dizziness caused her to lie back down. She panicked momentarily; Elves never got dizzy, nor did they ever regain consciousness with their eyes closed.

"What has happened?" she muttered groggily, and her hand flew to her throat at the harshness of her voice.

"Ah, child," a male answered in the Elvish tongue. "It is time you have awoken."

She carefully turned her head toward the sound, and her eyes grew wide at the sight of the Elf in front of her. He was attired in a beautifully embroidered tunic of silver and gold, and a green cloak fell from his shoulders. His light hair shone even in the darkness of the night, and his ethereal glow enhanced his beauty. A small gasp escaped Elenmírë's lips before she could prevent it, and she turned away shyly, well aware of her plain features. His beauty was far beyond that of an average Elf, reminding her very much so of a certain Prince of Mirkwood.

"Who are you?" she questioned, avoiding his gaze. "Where am I, and what has happened?"

"You are in the Realm of the Golden Wood, Elenmírë," he answered with a smile.

"Lothlórien!" she called out in alarm. "How..." Her voice trailed off as cloudy memories began to replay in her mind. Thoughts of the darkness of Moria brought shivers to her arms, and she hugged herself tightly, shaking her head to rid herself of the coldness that had begun to creep into her body. Then, without warning, Gandalf's fall into the great abyss beneath the Bridge of Khazad-Dum struck her like a flash of lightning, and tears sprung to her eyes. She looked up tearfully at the mysterious Elf, unanswered questions flashing across her face, and she struggled for a moment to decide which to ask first. "Who are you?" she repeated.

"My name is Haldir," he answered in the Common Tongue. A strange accent decorated his words, and a flash of amusement teased the corners of Elenmírë's lips. "We have not had dealings with those from other lands; therefore we rarely speak in any tongue other than our own." She nodded in understanding.

"Where exactly are my companions?" she asked, slowly pulling herself up into a sitting position. The dizziness she had experienced seconds before did not return, much to her relief, and she looked about her. Her eyes widened at the vastness of the forest and at the beauty of the majestic Mellyrn, and immediately she realized what she had been lying on. It was a talan, or a wooden platform, that had been built into the branches of the tree, and there were a number of talan scattered throughout.

"Behind you, young one, are your Halfling friends," Haldir explained, pointing them out, and only then did Elenmírë notice the four tiny bodies. Merry, Pippin, and Sam were asleep, but Frodo was breathing far too heavily. She knew he was still awake, even if his closed eyes tried to show otherwise.

"What of the others?" she questioned and furrowed her brow. She watched as Haldir extended his hand out gracefully, pointing at the next Mellyrn over, and there were the rest. Aragorn, Boromir, Gimli, and Mary Sue were all asleep, bundled in fur blankets, most likely provided by the Elves of Lorien, but Legolas was on his feet, his eyes wide as he stared back at her in disbelief, and within another moment, he quickly disappeared from her sight.

"Where is Legolas going?" Haldir inquired, his voice tinged with slight annoyance. "He must watch the Dwarf-"

"Gimli is no threat!" Elenmírë defended, swerving her head and locking her grey eyes with his. This time she did not look away, as uncomfortable as she was. Haldir still looked genuinely worried, but before he could speak another word, Legolas's head emerged from the bottom of the talan, and he climbed up swiftly the rest of the way.

"Haldir," he greeted with a slight nod of his head. "I must speak with her."

"But you must have an eye on that dwarf!" Haldir protested.

"He is asleep, and I assure you, even if he were awake, he is no trouble," Legolas stated, a hint of a plea in his tone. Haldir's eyes narrowed, but he soon climbed down the ladder the same way Legolas had climbed up, and sure enough, the two spotted him as he took post where Legolas had been mere minutes before. Elenmírë could not meet Legolas's eyes, and instead, opted to study her hands, both of which had remained pale. Legolas seated himself noiselessly beside her, contemplating the perfect way to initiate a conversation, but she spoke first.

"What happened outside of Moria, Legolas?" she asked, her voice slightly quavering. "I do not remember."

"You collapsed," he answered simply, "but I do not know why. I hope that once we meet the Lady of the Wood, we will find answers."

"But how did I get here?" she asked. "If I were unconscious, how-"

"I carried you," Legolas cut in, and Elenmírë snapped her head to stare at him. Her mouth fell open slightly, but no words would come out, and she turned away once more.

"You shouldn't have," she spat. They remained silent, Elenmírë concentrating on some unknown spot on the talan, and Legolas studying her weary face. The sound of running water greeted her ears, and she straightened in curiosity. There was a sweet voice infused within it, and she frowned slightly, trying to figure out what it was.

"The fair Nimrodel," he whispered. "She calls to you, does she not?" She closed her eyes, as if to focus on the water's gurgling babble.

"Nimrodel," Elenmírë repeated, opening her eyes, revealing the shimmer of unshed tears. "Some in Rivendell sing of her, in the Westron speech."

"Yes," he replied, nodding, and softly, he began to sing. Elenmírë watched and listened to him as his voice filled her ears, the words sounding oddly different, though she knew the song by heart. Love filled his eyes as their gazes locked, and try as she might, she could not tear her gaze away from his, and her lips trembled.

"Stop," she urged suddenly, and he broke away from song. She shook her head at his questioning gaze. "Nimrodel lost her love, Legolas. Amroth and Nimrodel lost each other. It is not a tale I wish to remember...not when I still grieve." He reached for her, but she edged back, shaking her head again. "Please." Clenching her hands into fists underneath the blanket that covered her, she inhaled sharply before spitting out her next words. "Go away, Legolas. You've done enough damage, carrying me here. I will not yield to my...attraction to you." Legolas flinched, as if slapped, and he soon shielded his hurt with a sneer.

"Is that all I ever was to you, Elenmírë?" he demanded. She would not meet his gaze, nor would she answer him. "Beneath the snow on Caradhras, did I not matter to you? Were my words, my hopes all in vain?" She turned away and lay down, covering herself almost completely from his view with the warm fur blanket.

"There is no more hope, Legolas," she whispered. "What should we dare to hope for? Love?" She let out a bitter laugh. "Love does not pass the test of time. Nothing lasts forever, or was that not apparent to you in Khazad- Dum? Gandalf is gone, the Ring is growing ever stronger, and the tension in our Fellowship is rising. Do you not feel it? What hope have we? Hope is lost to us, much like Nimrodel is to Amroth." She shuddered and pressed her face against the soft pillow beneath her head.

"I will not give up on you," Legolas declared fiercely, before rising to his feet. "Say what you will, but there is still hope...even in all things left unsaid."

"You are too optimistic for your own good," she sighed, her voice muffled. "The higher you dare to hope, the farther you will fall, Legolas."

"I will not give up on you," he repeated just as fervently, and paused slightly before leaning down and placing a loving kiss in her hair. Her mind protested as her body weakened at the contact; she could not deny that one simple touch from him could provide her with all the warmth she needed, warmth that the blanket she lay under could not give her. She retracted from him, and whimpered.

"Go."

"Rest, melamin," he bid farewell and exited the way he entered, and Elenmírë let out another sigh, this one of relief. She could not trust herself in his presence; the wall she had tried to build between them was slowly crumbling before her, but she did not want to succumb to him. Nonetheless, he was right: she needed rest. However, she could still feel eyes watching her, and she sat up quickly, startling a wide-eyed Frodo Baggins.

"Frodo, you should sleep," she chided in a low voice. "You will need your strength."

"I-I...cannot," he replied, his wide, tortured eyes revealing an inner struggle. "The song of Nimrodel haunts me."

"It is a sad tale, but do not let it trouble you."

"Then why do you?" Taken aback, the She-Elf gazed at the young Hobbit, but did not know how to reply. Frodo merely studied her for a moment before speaking again. "I also see you suffer, Elenmírë; Legolas is right. You need your rest, too. It will be a long journey." Elenmírë stared in disbelief at the hobbit before her, but he paid no heed as he rolled over on one side and curled into a fetal position, drawing the covers over his small frame.

"You speak wisely, friend," she whispered. "Sleep well." She also lowered herself into her makeshift bed, pulling the covers close. It took only mere seconds before her eyes glazed over with sleep.

"YRCH!"

The yell drew Elenmírë from her rest, and she was on her feet even before the hobbits next to her struggled with their heavy eyelids.

"What's going on?" Pippin's small voice came from under the heavy covers, and the She-Elf was by him in a matter of seconds.

"They've spotted Orcs," she explained in a hushed tone, and Frodo drew a glowing Sting from his scabbard as Merry and Pippin sat up abruptly. Sam lay still, shivering underneath his blanket in a quivering lump. "Quiet now," Elenmírë warned, glancing down to the ground below. They were a long ways up, but she knew that orcs were great climbers. She studied Frodo's blade as it began to fade, but there was some mischief in the air. She could feel it, but she did not know what it was. She turned to Frodo, and the look in his eyes told her he felt exactly the same thing. He shuffled closer to the tree's trunk and peered down through the hole in the talan.

"Elenmírë, I hear something sniffing," he whispered, his voice tinged with fear. Her hand drew to the hilt of her sword and she slowly approached behind Frodo.

"Get back," she hissed.

"I see something," he protested, "with two glowing eyes..."

Suddenly Haldir appeared, and Elenmírë let out a terrified squeak. The Elf looked at her in amusement.

"Did you not sense my approach, my Lady?" he asked, his voice teasing, though his eyes were worried.

"I sensed something evil," she answered, narrowing her eyes at him, but he shook his head.

"It was not I," he replied. "I saw a shadowy figure approach the talan, but it was gone before I could get any closer. What I did see, however, were two large eyes."

"As did I!" Frodo exlaimed, placing Sting back into its sheath.

"Yes," Haldir nodded. "It was no orc. My two brothers, Rumil and Orophin, and I led those away into the wood with feigned voices. Curse them! They ran through Nimrodel's clear waters with dirtied feet, but they will not leave the woods alive. Orophin has gone ahead to warn our people."

"But what was that creature in the tree then?" Elenmírë inquired, glancing at Frodo.

"I know not," Haldir sighed. "But it had some skill in climbing. Else would I have thought it were one of you hobbits!" Frodo's eyes widened at that, but a realization seemed to dawn on him for he pressed his lips into a determined line.

"What shall we do then?" he asked.

"You must take the road south as soon as it is fully light," Haldir answered, and with a nod at Elenmírë, "if the Lady is up to it. I fear you must go forward anyway even if you feel weakened from-"

"I am not weak!" she hissed indignantly. "I am no helpless Elf maiden-"

"I meant no offense, arwen en amin," he cut in, his eyes flashing dangerously. "I merely said what I did for you had fallen ill. I spoke with your health in mind." Elenmírë felt her cheeks redden and bowed her head to avoid his eyes.

"I am sorry," she whispered softly. "Diola lle, Haldir." (Thank you, Haldir.) He waved her apology away with a shake of his head and a wave of his hand.

"Worry not," he said. "Resume your rest, young ones." He settled down beside Elenmírë's place on the talan and sat with his legs crossed, his back straight. She blinked blankly at him.

"What are you doing?" she asked.

"Someone must watch over all of you," he stated matter-of-factly, giving her a slightly arrogant smirk. She felt her cheeks redden again, but she nodded, and slowly lowered herself onto her covers, feeling self- conscious with the Elf watching over them, knowing she could feel his eyes on her. She lay on her side, giving Haldir her back, and she smiled in reassurance to Merry and Pippin who mimicked her movements, though their faces revealed the shock of the news of orcs. A soft Evlish lullaby filled the air, and she turned sharply to give Haldir a look of surprise before she once again drifted off into a dreamless sleep.

She was up ere the sun shone in the pale blue sky, and Haldir greeted her with a slight nod. She looked away, terrified of how horrid her morning appearance might appear to the beautiful elf, and her gaze softened as her eyes landed on the four sleeping hobbits. She sat up quickly, running her fingers through the tangled mess that was her hair and straightening her tunic.

"Uuma dela," (Don't worry) Haldir spoke, his words halting her movements. "Amin uuma malia." (I don't care.)

"Mani?" (What?)

Haldir sighed and shook his head. "You needn't worry about your appearance, arwen en amin. It matters not." Her jaw dropped slightly and snapped shut in an instant.

"What, can you read minds, Haldir?" she inquired, the nervousness she felt slowly fading away like the morning mist. He rewarded her with a blinding smile, one full of amusement.

"No," he answered. "The blush that covers your cheeks and the way you avert your eyes indicate your feelings. You are easy to read." He tilted his head to study her. "You are young." Her back went rigid.

"Is that so bad?" she demanded, a growl rising from her chest.

"Nay, your naiveté is rather...endearing." She was taken aback with his direct reply, unable to absorb his words. She narrowed her eyes at him and looked away, opting instead to rouse the sleeping hobbits from their sleep. She rose to her feet and stretched before she knelt next to Pippin.

"Awake, Peregrin." An incorehent jumble of words flew from his lips as he turned on his side, not before he unconsciously flung his arm in her direction. Elenmírë frowned, crossed her arms and sat back on her heels. Quicker than she deemed possible, Haldir was at her side.

"Allow me," he said quietly, with a smirk. He looked at the sleeping Took's face and whispered one word: "Food!" Immediately, the hobbit's eyes sprang open, as did Merry's and Sam's, and Frodo blinked for a few seconds before he sat up. Elenmírë gaped at the hobbits before turning her surprised gaze to Haldir. He merely smiled at her before he crossed to the edge of the talan, letting out a low whistle to the other tree, and an almost identical whistle answered back. "Rumil and the others are ready!" Haldir informed them, and Pippin frowned.

"Why, it's time for breakfast!" he said. "Where's-"

"We must continue South, friend," Elenmírë answered. After a few minutes of packing and organizing their belongings, they met with the rest of the Fellowship on the forest floor by the path, and Haldir and Rumil took their place at the front to lead the company forward.

"Elenmírë!" a voice greeted her in a strangled tone, and Elenmírë whipped around to see Boromir, and his gaze, full of relief and love, was fixed on her. Choking back a sob, she ran into the open arms of her betrothed, burying her face onto his shoulder, and from her position, she did not see the look of triumph the Man of Gondor shot in the direction of the Prince of Mirkwood, nor did she catch a glimpse of the icy glare Legolas sent in return. She felt his hands cup her cheeks as he pulled away slightly, but he tilted her face just enough to study it as if to memorize every detail. "Don't you dare worry me again, Elenmírë," he whispered fiercely.

"My apologies," she answered, the corners of her lips twitching into a smile as she swept away the strands of hair that fell across his eyes and tucked them behind his ears. Just as Boromir leaned down to kiss her, Haldir cleared his throat in annoyance (much to Legolas's relief), and the couple broke free from each other as the Warrior of Lorien glared openly at their display of affection.

"Follow me," he commanded as he turned away abruptly, and he led the company onto the west side of the Silverlode, following the path a ways southward. Boromir protectively held onto Elenmírë's hand, as if afraid to let her go, but his eyes were not keen enough to capture the dark, furtive glances Legolas sent their way, though Elenmírë caught them sure enough. Something had happened between the two males while she had been ill, she was sure, but she did not know exactly what it was, but she was in no mood to demand an answer from Boromir right then. It would have to wait until they reached their destination, wherever that would be. Haldir cut through into the trees before abruptly pausing on a bank of the river, and he turned to look at the company.

"Across the stream, one of my people awaits," he informed them before he gave a low whistle, and out of the shadows, an Elf clad in similar fashion emerged, his hood thrown back to reveal a golden head of perfect hair, much to Elenmírë's chagrin. _'Is every inhabitant in Lorien so beautiful!'_ she thought to herself in discomfort, but her thoughts were momentarily interrupted as Haldir skillfully flung a cord of rope to the other side, and his comrade caught it with the greatest ease, tying the cord to a tree as Haldir did the same on the western bank. Much to the amazement of the hobbits, Haldir ran swiftly across the rope to land gracefully on the other end before running back and Legolas beamed.

"I can walk this path," said Legolas, "but the others have not the skill. Must they swim?"

"No!" Haldir answered. "We have two other ropes to tie just above this one. Those the rest may use to balance themselves to cross to the other side." When this slender bridge was made, the Company passed over, some cautiously and slowly, others more easily. Pippin proved the best out of the hobbits, and Elenmírë waited on the eastern bank with a congratulatory smile.

"Ah, Pippin, you are sure on your feet!" she greeted him.

"Of course!" he answered in mock offense before breaking out into a proud smile. When at length all the company was gathered on the east bank of the Silverlode, the Elves untied the ropes and coiled two of them. Rumil, who had remained on the other side, drew back the last one, slung it on his shoulder, and with a wave of his hand went away, back to Nimrodel to keep watch. Haldir called their attention.

"You have now entered the Naith of the Lorien, or the Gore," he informed them, his tone serious. "We allow no strangers to spy out the secrets of the Naith. Few indeed are even permitted to set foot here." He turned his eyes to Gimli the Dwarf, who then shuffled in uneasiness. "Therefore we must blindfold the Dwarf. The others may walk free awhile until we draw closer to our dwellings."

"This agreement was made without my consent!" Gimli roared, his eyes ablaze. "I will NOT walk blindfolded like some prisoner for I am no spy! I am no more likely to betray you than Legolas, or any other of my companions!" There was a note of panic and distress in his voice, and Haldir looked at him wearily.

"I do not doubt you," he anwered, "but this is our law. I am not the master of this law, nor can I set it aside-"

"I will walk free!" Gimli insisted, his face turning red. "Else I will go back and perish alone in the wilderness-"

"You cannot go back!" Haldir hissed. "There are guards now who hide secretly, and you would be slain ere you saw them!" Gimli growled and reached for his ax, which Aragorn immediately lay his hand on to stop his movements.

"A plague on Dwarves and their stiff necks!" Legolas sighed, crossing his arms with impatience.

"Haldir, please," Mary Sue pleaded, her eyes glancing from the Elf to the Dwarf. "Try to be reasonable! Gimli wouldn't do anything!"

"Come," Aragorn said, looking over the company sternly. "Blindfold us all, even Legolas." Gimli let out a hearty laugh.

"Ah!" he said, grinning widely. "I will be content, if only Legolas here shares my blindness!" The Mirkwood Prince stood frozen, his mouth agape for a few seconds before he reacted.

"I will not!" he cried out indignantly, very much like the young elf he was. He clenched his hands in anger. "I am an Elf and a Kinsman here-"

"Now let us a cry: 'A plague on the stiff necks of Elves!'" Aragorn commented dryly.

"I said nothing!" Elenmírë protested to the Ranger, though she shared Legolas's sentiments. Aragorn flashed her a quick apologetic smile before turning back to Haldir, who then nodded and proceeded to blindfold the company. Elenmírë watched anxiously as one by one, her companions were deprived of their sight, and when Haldir appraoched her, she shivered slightly.

"Lle desiel?" (Are you ready?) he asked her softly, and she shook her head fervently.

"Amin uuma merna ta!" (I don't want it!) she sneered with distaste, and he smirked at her. She did not fight him, however, when he brought the blindfold to her eyes, and satisfied with her silent acquiescence, he tied it securely.

"Worry not, arwenamin," he whispered softly. "You will not fall. The path I will lead you on will be clear and free of obstacles. You can trust me." She nodded, trying to calm her nervousness. He smiled fondly at her, though she could not see it, and he moved from her side.

The Company journeyed well through the day, and not once did a member of the Fellowship fall for Haldir remained true to his word and led them on a smooth and soft path. They relaxed and walked on worry-free, trusting in their own senses which had sharpened with the loss of sight. As twilight passed and dusk had fallen, they stopped and rested, but not once did Haldir allow them the freedom from their blindfolds, and because they could not see, they did not climb the trees for shelter and remained on the forest floor to rest, and for some, to sleep. They did not become distressed, however, for there was a secure feeling in Lorien; no shadow lay in its lands. The next morning, they journeyed further until midday, when they suddenly heard the melodic voices of Elves surrounding them all. Blindfolds came off, and the Fellowship delighted in the use of their eyes once more.

"A marching host of Elves have informed me of the Lady's commands," Haldir explained, his eyes merry. "The Lady of the Galadhrim knows who you all are and bids that you walk free the remainder of the way." He smiled in welcome to the Dwarf Gimli. "Look and be glad for you are the first dwarf to behold the trees of the Naith of Lorien since Durin's Day!" Gimli looked rather pleased with himself as he sat down on the soft grass, content with the new turn of events.

Elenmírë gasped audibly as she looked up into the left of the open field at which they stood and beheld a great mound where two rings of trees stood proudly, the outer ring of leafless, flawless white trees and the inner ring of tall, glorious mallorn-trees sprinkled with ancient talan. Numerous flowers were scattered about the hill, including the famed yellow elanor and pale niphredil.

"Cerin Amroth." Haldir was once again at her side as she gaped at the scenic hill. "Once the home to Amroth-"

"Nimrodel's lost love," Elenmírë sighed sadly, almost immediately turning away from the site. "It is a beautiful place, far more beautiful than I could have ever imagined." Her gaze fell upon Boromir and then Legolas, both of whom seemed happy at the moment to stare at the world around them. _'Cerin Amroth; 'tis but another place that proves love lasts not forever-'_ Elenmírë's private thoughts were suddenly invaded by an ancient, distant voice.

_'Do not lose hope, young child,'_ the voice urged. _'The fulfillment of your destiny relies solely on you.'_ A pair of blue eyes flashed in her mind, and Elenmírë started, looking wildly this way and that, trying desperately to find the source of the haunting voice. Was she seriously starting to lose her mind? Was she officially going mad? Haldir looked at her strangely before he left to show Frodo the beauty of Cerin Amroth, and she turned to stare at Boromir and Legolas. Boromir motioned for her to relax with him on the green grass while Legolas watched on with jealousy raging in his eyes, and Mary Sue sat pensively, sadness burdening her pretty features as she studied Legolas's gaze with a heavy heart, knowing fully well with whom his interest lay.

_'You alone will affect their futures,'_ the voice hissed, reverberating through Elenmírë's mind, and the She-Elf shivered, tearing her gaze away as she settled herself onto the grass with her back to them.

"I will not!" she protested in a voice just above a whisper. "I cannot-" A hand clasped onto her shoulder, and she yelped suddenly, jumping to her feet as she faced a surprised Boromir.

"What ails you?" he asked, drawing her near, but she stepped out of his embrace and shook her head, and without another word, she fled up toward Cerin Amroth.

* * *

TBC.. 


	16. Chapter Fifteen: A Confession

**Disclaimer:** Everything belongs to Tolkien. Anything unfamiliar belongs to me. No money is being made. 

**Author's Notes:** Elenmírë isn't in this chapter...I know it's short, but I wanted to focus on Mary Sue and Legolas in this one.  
01/19/06 - Grammatically, I couldn't find much to edit with this chapter, but I may have overlooked a few mistakes.

**The Imperfect One**  
By: Goddess-Isis-112

**Chapter Fifteen: A Confession**

Boromir remained puzzled as he watched his betrothed flee from him to tackle the gentle slopes of Cerin Amroth, and a million thoughts ran through his mind as he tried to figure out what exactly was bothering her. Her Elven glow was almost completely gone, and her skin still remained a sickly pale tone. She was fading from him and from the world, and although he could feel it, he was at a loss as to how to even begin to help her. It was a distressing business to feel such helplessness when watching his beloved future wife slowly disintegrate before his very eyes, and the grief he still felt from Gandalf's fall did not help ease his anxiety.

Boromir watched as she disappeared between the outer ring of white trees, and he debated whether or not he should go after her and comfort her of whatever she was feeling. Gandalf's fall had definately hit her the hardest, and he wanted nothing more than to be there for her when she needed him, but if she had wanted to find solace in his embrace, she wouldn't have fled from him the way she did. He sighed and deduced that she needed time to herself, placing aside his need to hold her, to feel the solidity of her love for him in the beating of her heart against his chest.

"What did you say to her?"

Boromir whipped around to face a seething Legolas, whose face was growing red with rage.

"I said nothing to upset her," Boromir growled angrily, his eyes flashing dangerously, "and what happens between me and my betrothed is none of your concern!"

"Are you blind, Man?" Legolas spat. "She was obviously disturbed before she ran away to Cerin Amroth-"

"But it was none of my doing," Boromir defended, narrowing his eyes. "She has been unbalanced since we left Moria, Legolas, and I cannot help but wonder whether or not your meddling has been a cause in all this-"

"Meddling!" the Elf cried out indignantly.

"Your comforting her outside of Moria was more than friendly," Boromir sneered. "Did you honestly believe that this entire time I could not see the way you look at her, not hear the soft Elvish words you speak to her? Do you take me for a fool, Elf! Can you not see how happy she is with me? Your desire to force your feelings upon her when she obviously does not return your sentiments does nothing but inflict more stress than she needs already!" Boromir was breathing heavily with anger. "You had no right to carry her, and when I had insisted on taking on the task, you had no right to declare in front of the entire Fellowship that her heart lies not with mine, but with yours!" His eyes had grown glassy with unspoken rage, and his hands were clenched, as if he were ready to deliver a blow at any given moment. "She is mine, Elf. We are betrothed, and you damn well better accept that fact and leave us be." Legolas stood silent as Boromir stalked away, his wrath engulfing the Elf as he hung his head in quiet regret.

"Legolas." He turned around and faced a dispirited Mary Sue. Her large violet eyes were wide with vulnerability, and the golden hue of the wood only enhanced the shine of her wondrous jet black hair. She was beyond stunning, and with her features riddled in melancholy, she could have been an incarnation of Nimrodel herself. "Look, I know I shouldn't have, but I couldn't help but overhear your conversation with Boromir-"

"Please." His voice was pained as he looked away from her and moved to leave.

"I know we made a truce to remain just friends, Legolas, but when I see you hurting that way, I want to help you," Mary Sue said softly, and Legolas paused but did not turn. "I know how you feel; believe me, I do."

"What do you know of how I feel at the moment?" he demanded, a tinge of bitterness lining his words. "What can you possibly know of what is going through my mind?" She flinched and hesitated before she closed her eyes and took a deep breath, knowing that she was risking an even greater broken heart by revealing her feelings now.

"I know that everytime you look at her, your heart skips a beat before beating in a rhythm so fast you can hardly breathe, and yet, you wouldn't give up anything in the world to feel any different," she began, and Legolas started at her description. He slowly faced her as she continued. "Everytime you see her, you feel your heart cry out with joy but at the same time, you feel the most repressing sort of pain because you can't be free to run to her and hold her in your arms and whisper the words of love that are dying to be released." She locked her eyes with him, and he saw with surprise that they were rimmed with tears. "It pains you every single second because no matter how hard you try, she never ever seems to see what you go through. She doesn't understand what you're willing to endure just to be close to her again."

"How do you know all this?" he asked softly, the agony in his heart making him wince at how exact her account really was.

"Don't you get it, Legolas!" she finally cried out, the tears slipping from her eyes. "I know how you feel because I feel the same way! I suffer as you do because I'm in love with you." She recoiled back when the words finally slipped from her mouth, and she was unable to look into his eyes. The silence that lay between them was deafening.

"What?" he finally let out blankly, blinking.

"I've been in love with you, Legolas," she replied tiredly, still incapable of eye contact, "for the longest time. At first, it was because you were so beautiful. No one, absolutely no one I've ever known struck me the way you did when I first saw you. But in Rivendell, when we finally made that truce and became true friends, I realized that...that I was beginning to fall for more than just your looks. You were always so kind to me, even when I knew I annoyed you at times. You were patient with me, and there were times when you were actually interested in what I had to say, especially when it came to talking about my world. But I was just so frustrated with you! Whenever Elenmírë was around, I would catch you looking at her the way I wished you looked at me, and..." Her voice trailed off as she sniffed. "I got jealous. I had to grab onto you to make you notice me, to get you to stop looking at her. I'd say the rudest things to her in hopes that maybe she'd act so incredibly diabolical that maybe you'd finally look at me favorably. I know you told me before that you always felt so trapped when girls here would relentlessly pursue you, so I tried to tone down my actions a bit, but...jealousy makes you do crazy things." She gave a shadow of a smile as he nodded in agreement, thinking back to the way he protectively went to Elenmírë the moment she collapsed outside of Moria, denying even Boromir access to her.

"Words fail me," Legolas muttered, his cheeks flushed at her confession. Her unpleasant attitude suddenly made sense, and as he looked at her, with her beauty emanating from her, he felt his insides constrict. There was no doubt the girl was lovely, but with her confession, she now looked different to him somehow. He could not see her as the whining young child he once thought her to be. All that was a mere visage to how she really was, and it was unnerving.

"You don't have to say anything, Legolas," she answered, biting her lip. "I know I said more than you were ready to hear, but I..." She paused a moment to think. "I just want you to be happy, Legolas, and I think you deserve someone who actually sees you and wants to be with you." She shuffled her feet. "All I know is that I hate seeing the pain in your eyes every time you look at her. Unrequited feelings are never pleasant. I...I'm just here for you when you can't talk to anyone else. That's all I wanted to say before I went on a tangent." Her cheeks colored slightly. "Right then." She turned to leave, and Legolas felt a lump in his throat.

"Wait." His voice was strained and hoarse, but when she looked back at him with hope shining in her eyes, his breath caught. He was in love with Elenmírë, there was no doubt, but he knew he was not perfect. Mary Sue was beautiful, and with her honest avowal, chasing after Elenmírë suddenly became an even more difficult feat to accomplish because the temptation of falling for Mary Sue was now an even more realisitic option. He reached his hand to her, and surprise crossed her features but she took his hand nonetheless.

* * *

TBC.  



	17. Chapter Sixteen: Confrontations in Caras...

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing! No money is being made.

**Author's Notes:** _01/19/06 - _I just got through viewing parts of the films today, so I'm slowly falling back into the swing of things. I honestly can't find my FotR book, and it's killing me! I'd been reading it a couple of days ago, and I really don't know where I've put it. Sigh. Once again, not much editing in this chapter._  
_

**The Imperfect One**  
By: Goddess-Isis-112

Chapter Sixteen: Confrontations in Caras Galadhon

A smile threatened to break free upon her face, but Mary Sue kept it in check, never daring to give in to the tiny shimmer of hope that grew ever stronger the longer she stared into Legolas's eyes. The feel of her tiny hand in his brought her a warmth that she never knew she could feel, and her fingers closed over his as he pulled her close, enveloping her. She sighed and closed her eyes, committing to memory what she was feeling when in his arms. His scent of wood and spice drifted into her nostrils and she inhaled deeply, her senses high on all Legolas could offer her. His soft breath was at her ear, and as her heartbeat quickened, she shivered with delight. Her arms found their way around his waist, and she spent no time at all in conforming the soft curves of her body to the hard planes of his. He drew in a sharp breath and stiffened immediately, and fearing he was going to turn her away, Mary Sue stepped back in alarm, just enough to put space in between them but not too much.

"Is anything wrong, my love?" she whispered softly, and her heart fell when he cringed at the endearment. He pulled away from her, pain clearly written on his face, and she choked back a sob as her body yearned for his warmth. She merely had but a small taste, and she found herself wanting so much more than he offered. "Legolas, please." The soft urge in her voice made him flinch again, and this time he looked away from her, and as she reached across the space between them to touch his arm, he quietly moved just out of range.

"This does not feel right, Mary Sue," he whispered barely loud enough for her to hear. She shook her head at him, but it was useless as he kept his gaze focused on the ground.

"Maybe you just need to give it time, Legolas," she said, keeping her hope at bay. "Please, you just need to get used to the feeling of it-"

"No," he said softly. "It has only ever felt right to hold but one person in my arms, and I am sorry, Mary Sue, but you are not the one." Her eyes stung with the burden of salty tears, but she held them back, refusing to give in.

"No!" she hissed menacingly. "Legolas, are you listening to yourself? You think you are in love with someone who obviously has issues with herself! Not only that, she's engaged! She promised herself to someone else!" Her voice broke off as the first tear fell, and she tried to compose herself before continuing. Legolas looked up, and the pain in his eyes did nothing but cause her flood of tears to stream down her cheeks. She moved toward him, her hands clutching to his tunic in desperation. "Legolas, please. What are you doing to me? You've given me hope only to take it back? Why?"

"I do not wish to hurt you even more than I have, Mary Sue, but to believe that a relationship deeper than friendship will come from this will only bring you grief," he answered tiredly. "Do not entangle yourself in the mess that has held me prisoner. Break away now while you still have this chance."

"No," she declared firmly, keeping her eyes focused on his. "You will not be rid of me that easily."

"You will only hurt in the end," he forewarned, stepping away from her once more, wrenching himself from her grasp.

"I don't believe I will," she said, determination sparkling in her violet eyes, and Legolas grew even more upset with the situation, upset that he could not love the exquisite being in front of him, upset that his heart already belonged to one who seemed not to return his affections. He was tired and angry, and he wanted nothing more than to lash out at someone, anyone to stop the tortuous ache from eating at his soul.

"Do you want me to say the very words that will break your heart, Mary Sue?" he growled suddenly as he grew angry with frustration. She recoiled as if he had slapped her, and she shook her head.

"You shouldn't have reached for me then," she said quietly before turning to go.

"I know," he answered, and tears veiled her eyes and blurred her vision as she walked away, and Legolas tore his eyes away from her, turning to gaze at the hill of Cerin Amroth, searching for Elenmírë's figure amid the foliage. He found her soon enough, but a deep jealousy replaced the frustration that had lingered only seconds before as he watched a conversation unfold between Elenmírë and Haldir. They sat on a talan, staring off to a place far beyond his field of vision, and he frowned. The crackle of feet treading upon fallen twigs caught his attention, and he averted his gaze to see Sam and Frodo emerge from their venture into Cerin Amroth. Immediately, his face became blank and he took on a cheerful smile, his brain working for an excuse to get information from the two hobbits of what Elenmírë and Haldir were doing so far up in the trees.

"Was your excursion into Cerin Amroth pleasurable, gentlemen?" he greeted casually, hoping that sincerity was not lost in his voice.

"It is far beautiful than any place I have ever walked through," Frodo admitted, "but we have yet to enter the city of Caras Galadhon where I am sure the beauty of Cerin Amroth will be challenged."

"Th' nices' grove of trees I'd ever seen, and tha's sayin' somethin,'" Sam included with a definite nod. Legolas let out a chuckle, looking once more to where Elenmírë and Haldir sat.

"And why haven't Haldir and Elenmírë come back down, I wonder?" he inquired indirectly, raising an eyebrow at them and hoping to seem indifferent. Sam shuffled his feet as Frodo shrugged. They did not answer, and with a friendly smile and a nod, the hobbits left him, whispering to themselves, forgetting however, that Elves had excellent hearing.

"I didn' want ter upset 'im or anythin', but I suspect that Haldir fellow 'as a thin' for th' Lady," Sam whispered to Frodo.

"And that isn't a good thing," Frodo commented quietly, stealing a glance to Legolas before looking wearily to Boromir who still sat fuming a few yards away as he rested against the trunk of a mallorn. Legolas's eyes narrowed suspiciously as he caught the tidbits of information, and he crossed his arms. This was becoming far more complicated than he realized, and he glared into the back of Haldir's head.

"I fear he is staring at us," Haldir commented quietly, and Elenmírë groaned. She folded her legs to her chest, and after tucking her arms under her knees, she placed her chin on top of them.

"He is becoming too much," she sighed sadly, never removing her stare from the city of Caras Galadhon. "I don't want to talk about him anymore. It makes my head pound." Haldir chuckled and sat down next to her. He studied the She-Elf discreetly, watching as the worry lines eased their hold from her face as she admired the city he had called his home for many centuries. Odd, she was. Her face was a sickly pale, and the occasional blush that covered her cheeks only enhanced its gauntness. Her lovely eyes were overshadowed by the dark circles that lay beneath them, and she looked like a shadow of an Elf, especially with her Elven glow almost completely gone. Granted, she did look much healthier than when they had first come across the Fellowship near the Nimrodel; she had looked close to death then. There was a sadness troubling her eyes, and he knew if she did not dispel her misery, she would fade even faster.

"We do not have to speak of him if that is your wish," he replied, his voice uncharacteristically gentle.

"He is too irritating," she muttered. "He refuses to accept that I am happy with Boromir, and his insistence is slowly driving me more insane than I already am!" Haldir tilted his head at her in amusement, and the corners of her mouth twitched upward. "I'll not mention him from now on." He smirked in reply, obviously not believing her, and she groaned again. "Hopeless, aren't I?"

"Just a bit," he answered with a smile, and they said no more as they sat and stared in wonder at the heart of Elvendom in Middle Earth. "Even after all these years, it amazes me how marvelous the Golden Wood are," he finally said breaking their peaceful silence, "and as much as I would love to stay here and admire it, we must continue on our journey. The entrance doors do not face northward, and we must head to the southern walls to enter the city. The way is not short by any means. It is time for all of you to meet the Lord Celeborn, and Galadriel, Lady of Light."

When they finally rejoined the rest of the Fellowship, the members greeted them with refreshed hearts and were eager to head forth into Caras Galadhon. Elenmírë nodded her head in silent thanks to Haldir before turning to move to Boromir's side, and she did not see his lingering gaze as she walked away, though Legolas was quick enough to notice and clenched his fists in response. Almost immediately, Haldir snapped his head in his direction, narrowing his eyes in quiet challenge, but naught was said. Without another word, Haldir led the group to the gates of the city, and the closer they got, the darker the skies became until they were almost completely under the green canopy of trees. Silver-lighted lamps littered the branches of the trees, and it was an incredulous sight; it was as if the stars of the heavens themselves decided to grace the Golden Wood with their presence. They came to a white bridge, and Haldir looked back to address the group following him.

"The Gates of Caras Galadhon," he announced to them, pointing to the tall and strong doors that would greet them at the end of the bridge. They followed him in awe, and when they finally reached the entrance, Haldir called out and knocked. The gates swung open soundlessly, allowing them access into the ancient city, and they closed shut behind them. Boromir stiffened visibly, and Elenmírë reached her hand to his, and their eyes met, hers pleading with him to stay calm and to trust her kindred. He relaxed a little, but the rigidity never left his body. His eyes were narrowed with suspicion as he looked about uncomfortably, and he gripped her hand almost to the point of pain, but she did not cry out.

Silently, they continued, following Haldir up a seemingly neverending stairwell which curved its way around a tall mallorn-tree. On a few occasions, they paused to allow the hobbits a quick break to catch their breath, but they never stopped for a long period of time.

"Feels like we're climbin' up ter heaven," Pippin sighed heavily, swiping the sweat from his forehead with his tiny cloak.

"Just breathe," Gimli instructed, leaning on his ax for support. A genuine smile lit up Legolas's face as he grinned at the Dwarf, and for a brief moment, he turned and caught Elenmírë admiring him with an unguarded expression of love before she started and caught herself, and her face once again became blank and unreadable. She avoided his stare, but that would not stop the mad, vigorous beating of his heart. That _is why you mustn't give up hope, _he told himself silently. _She loves you. You can see it in her eyes._ His lips curved upward slightly in a small smile that he kept to himself.

They trudged upward until, at last, they reached a wide talan supporting a gorgeous, intimidating house, one that seemed to float from the very branches of the mallorn-tree. Each curve and intricate arch conveyed the majesty of Lothlórien, and it was indeed a most fitting house for the Queen of Elves. Haldir led them to the base of a wide staircase, and he motioned for them to stay while he moved to the side, his eyes looking upward, and Elenmírë followed his gaze.

Her jaw immediately dropped open as a pair of figures bathed in radiant white light descended the wide staircase, and she squinted until the light faded to a soft, healthy glow around the couple. There was a crushing pressure on her hand, and after wriggling her fingers, Boromir shot her an apologetic look and loosened but never relinquished his hold. He trembled slightly, and she responded by gently caressing the back of his hand with her thumb. She brought her attention back to the duo, and her eyes were greeted by the sight of the most beautiful pair of Elves she had ever seen. There was no doubt in her mind that they were the esteemed Lord Celeborn and Lady Galadriel, grandparents to her foster brothers and sister, for Arwen certainly received her beauty from the Elven Queen, and Elrohir and Elladan were almost exact duplicates of the Lord Celeborn with the exception of their dark hair. Thoughts of her siblings brought tears to her eyes, and she gaped at the couple, drinking in every detail for they reminded her of the family she terribly missed and left behind.

"Ten there are yet eleven set out from Rivendell," the Lord Celeborn spoke after a moment of solemn observance of the company. "Tell me, where is Gandalf for I very much desire to speak with him." A tear escaped down Elenmírë's cheek, and her lips trembled, wanting to inform him of what had happened, and yet unable to find the strength to speak of a wound still fresh with pain.

"He has fallen into shadow." The Lady Galadriel stated sorrowfully, her ancient eyes deepening with emotion, and Elenmírë stared at her in amazement, a single question forming in her mind: _How does she know?_

"It was a Balrog of Morgoth," Legolas answered, quavering slightly, "for we went needlessly into the net of Moria."

"We do not yet know Gandalf's full purpose," she declared, her eyes glowing eerily and the company fell silent with thought.

_"Is not my voice familiar to you, young one?" _Elenmírë panicked for a moment, unable to place the source of the voice until Galadriel turned her eyes to her and Boromir.

"The quest stands upon the edge of a knife," she said aloud. "Stray but a little and it will fail to the ruin of all." A spasm went through Boromir and Elenmírë looked at him in alarm. Suddenly, he was weeping beside his betrothed, turning his face away and covering his eyes with his hands as he wrenched himself away from Elenmírë. She slowly reached for him, but the Lady interrupted her thoughts once more. _"Leave him be, child. He needs time to dwell on what I have spoken."_

_"It was you who spoke to me near Cerin Amroth!"_ Elenmírë turned her surprised eyes to the Queen, but the Lady was focused on Frodo. Her voice once again answered her though she gave no physical indication of it.

_"Yes, child. It was I. We have much to discuss."_ Elenmírë gave a slight nod in understanding.

"Hope remains while the company is true," Galadriel stated, smiling softly. "Do not let your hearts be troubled. Go now and rest for you are weary with sorrow and much toil. Tonight you shall sleep in peace." Frodo jumped slightly, startled, and his haunted eyes gazed wearily at the Lady of the Wood. She merely smirked, and, with Lord Celeborn, ascended up the flight of steps once more.

They turned to Haldir uncertainly, and he nodded and led them down again to the forest floor where awaited them a makeshift canopy. Underneath lay many blankets and in between the mallorn-roots beneath the canopy were large pillows instead of beds. The hobbits' pace quickened until they collapsed onto the pillows, and they each let out sighs of relief. Gimli followed soon after, and immediately, he was asleep. Elenmírë studied Boromir as he wandered off a few yards away before planting himself on the ground out of sight behind another mallorn-tree. The Lady's words still echoed in her head, and she listened, despite the urgency she felt to comfort her betrothed. She sat down beside Merry as Legolas disappeared further into the canopy, and Mary Sue sat down beside her, much to her surprise.

"You should rest," Elenmírë said nonchalantly, though her eyes betrayed her concern for the young human. With one look at Mary Sue's face, it was no mystery that she was troubled, and the She-Elf became uncomfortable. They weren't exactly on good terms with each other, but it was indeed peculiar to see Mary Sue and Elenmírë _not_ glaring at each other.

"You're lucky, you know," Mary Sue whispered bitterly, swerving her violet eyes to stare at Elenmírë. "I honestly don't know what he sees in you." The She-Elf looked away.

"I do not know the answer myself," Elenmírë found herself saying, amazed that this was indeed one of the very few moments of civility between the two females. "You should rest," she repeated, uncertain as to what to say next. But both froze when Legolas reemerged, having removed his green tunic to reveal the silver one he wore underneath, and the silver lights from the lamps that hung above danced upon his hair and his face, kissing his chiseled features with affection. Both Mary Sue and Elenmírë inhaled sharply in astonishment, turning their attention to the Elf as he tilted his head when a melancholic song filled their air.

"A lament to Gandalf," he informed the company softly, and Elenmírë lowered her eyes, unable to take in his exquisite beauty.

"What do they say about 'im?" Merry inquired, lifting his head slightly from his pillow as he looked up into the endless heights of the trees.

"I have not the heart to tell you," Legolas whispered in response, his voice trembling slightly. "For me the grief is still too near." Merry frowned and lay back down, his eyes closing as he listened softly. Soon, his breathing steadied, and the She-Elf knew he had fallen asleep. The song had a melancholy effect; depression was clear amid their countenances as one by one they each fell into grateful sleep.

Elenmírë listened as well, feeling her eyes well up once again as the faceless voices continued with their lament, and without her consent, her mind replayed the horrific scene over and over, with Gandalf clinging to the edge of the broken bridge before relinquishing his hold to fall into the dark depths. She bit her lip, trying to force the event out of her head, but the incident would not leave her mind. Out of habit, her body responded the only way it knew how, and she hugged her knees to her chest once more as she rocked back and forth.

"It did not have to happen that way," she whispered.

"But it did happen that way, and you must learn to accept it," a voice answered her, and her head snapped up, but she was unable to discern the figure with her blurred vision. She wiped the tears away with the back of her hand as the individual knelt down before her. "Things happen for a reason, Elenmírë, and although it may not be clear now, it will make sense in-"

"Gandalf did not have to die!" she hissed angrily at Haldir. "He was my dear friend…" She choked back a sob and buried her face against her raised knees. She felt him gently rub her back as if she were a child. She cried silently as she leaned into his touch, and when it was removed a few seconds later, she looked up in dismay at the loss.

"Life is a precious gift, young one," Haldir said softly. "Do not waste yours with too much grief." With that, he gave a small nod before walking away, and Mary Sue looked at his retreating figure and shook her head at Elenmírë.

"I don't get it," the girl said, pulling her lips into a frown. "It makes absolutely no sense."

"What?" Elenmírë asked blankly, her voice hoarse from her attempt to keep her cries silent. She sniffed and wiped away her remaining tears, but she could not dispel her sadness. The poignant lament of Gandalf's fall still lingered in the air, and her heart twisted with desolation.

"Are you _that_ blind?" Mary Sue gaped at the She-Elf in half-awe, half-disgust.

"Now you're the one making no sense," Elenmírë snarled, laying her head on her knees once more. "Stop speaking in riddles!" Mary Sue sighed indignantly and nodded her head in Legolas's direction, and Elenmírë followed her gaze. His eyes were trained on Haldir's diminishing form with clenched fists. "What is wrong with him?" she inquired, and Legolas's head swerved at her question, his eyes narrowed. Without another word, he walked into the canopy, never meeting her questioning look.

"And I thought I was naïve!" the human girl sighed impatiently, crossing her arms. "The only reason I'm saying this is because…" Her voice trailed off and her cheeks colored, augmenting her natural beauty. Elenmírë raised an eyebrow uncertainly. "From the beginning, Elenmírë, you knew of my feelings for Legolas," Mary Sue muttered, and the She-Elf bristled slightly, looking away.

"If this is another, 'Legolas-is-mine' conversation, you needn't bother," she replied. "And I do not see what this has to do with Haldir-"

"Gods, woman, are you oblivious to the fact that maybe-"

"I am no woman, I am an Elf."

"Fine, _Elf_, are you so ignorant that you can't see that Legolas could possibly be, oh I don't know, _jealous_ maybe, of this growing friendship between you and Haldir?" Mary Sue spat in one heated breath, her face growing red with anger. "I can't _stand_ the way he pines over you when you obviously don't show that you care about him, so why don't you do all of us a favor and let him know once and for all that he has no chance!" Her violet eyes were bulging with fury, and she looked about ready to challenge the She-Elf to a duel.

"I don't need this," Elenmírë sneered in turn, angry that Mary Sue could think of nothing other than the object of her affection. Her grey eyes darkened into a stormy cloud of black. "Do you not think that I've tried that? Do you honestly think that I want to throw away my chance at a happy marriage with Boromir, the only person who dared to show his love for me? I do not need you to remind me of Legolas's misplaced affections when I am still grieving for the death of one of the only true friends I have ever known! How can you be so…_selfish_, so insensitive to think of nothing but your love life?"

"Don't you _dare_ turn this around to make me look like the insensitive one when _you're_ the one leading three guys on!" Mary Sue growled, her violet eyes flashing. "Especially when one of them happens to be the one I love-"

"Take him then, if it'll shut your mouth," Elenmírë snapped, jumping to her feet. "Just leave me be!" And once again, she fled.

Legolas straightened when Elenmírë's harsh words drifted into his sensitive ears, and he bowed his head in the shadows as he watched her escape from Mary Sue. Was the look of love he caught on Elenmírë's face earlier just his mind's own wishful thinking? Or was it really there, carefully hidden beneath her hard exterior? His heart clamored loudly in his chest, demanding that he find out once and for all, and succumbing, he silently followed her trail.

A pair of violet eyes watched on as he ran swiftly after the She-Elf, and blinking back her tears, Mary Sue drew her blanket close, attempting to warm herself, but it did not help chase away the terrible coldness she felt surrounding her.

* * *

TBC. 


	18. Chapter Seventeen: The Return of the Eav...

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing except my OCs!

**Author's Note: **To tell you the truth, I honestly feel sorry for Mary Sue, but I won't give away what I'm planning to do with her. Let's just say everyone in this story, or rather _almost_ everyone, is going to end up happy when this is through, but that won't be for a while… Thanks so much to all reviewers! Warning: _Some _fluff ahead, but no lemons yet so don't worry!  
_01/19/06_ - Just more grammatical changes made. Goodness, this chapter is way too much for me to handle in terms of drama. I can't believe I wrote this nonsense, haha.

**The Imperfect One**  
By: Goddess-Isis-112

Chapter Seventeen: The Return of the Eavesdropping Prince

Haldir found Elenmírë crouched down below a natural roof of two intertwined mallorn-roots, and the She-Elf was shaking with emotion, but with her head bowed, it was difficult to discern what exactly she was feeling. He approached cautiously, not knowing just how to greet her.

"Go away," she grumbled. _Ah, sad then_, Haldir decided, taking no heed to her words as he crawled under the roots and sat across from her. She made no effort to raise her head in acknowledgement and instead chose to ignore him as she struggled to control her tears. He said nothing and studied the young She-Elf until she stilled and grew quiet, and only then did she dare lift her grey eyes to look at him.

Elenmírë studied the silent Elf before her as he watched her with a quiet confidence and wisdom she had only seen among those much older than herself. He intimidated her; he exuded great poise and certainty in all he did, making her feel much younger than she was. And yet, he was patient, never fully demanding her attention and waiting until she was ready to face him. He showed a maturity that reminded her so much of one she missed dearly: her foster father, Lord Elrond, but Haldir was far from being a father figure in her eyes. He was also a skilled warrior; she had heard tales of him from her brothers far before she had handled a blade, and it even felt a bit surreal to be sitting across a figure she had heard great stories of from when she had been a small child. What amazed her more was that he chose to sit there with her, a teary mess, until she calmed down. Her eyes locked with his, she was once again amazed by his beauty before Mary Sue's earlier words repeated in her head. Could this great warrior truly be interested in her? Once again, she found herself agreeing with Mary Sue's sentiments: it did not make any sense. A smug smile appeared on his face as he tilted his head under her gaze, knowing fully well that she was observing him. She blushed and turned away.

"Do I make you uncomfortable, my Lady?" he questioned, his voice soft.

"No, I just didn't mean to stare so rudely," she answered, feeling her face grow hot with embarrassment.

"You're welcome to look, my Lady," he said, grinning a bit wider.

"I shouldn't," she replied sternly, her tone serious. If Mary Sue was right (Elenmírë loathed the idea of that), and Haldir _did_ have some fascination with her, Elenmírë knew she had to stop it before it grew into something bigger. She cringed inwardly at silently admitting that the human girl did make _some_ sense, and it had been that fact alone that caused Elenmírë to flee once more. She let out a sigh and shook her head to relieve herself from her thoughts.

"I understand," Haldir said simply, giving a little shrug, but he did not move from his spot, keeping his eyes on her. She squirmed under his gaze, and the corner of his lips twitched slightly in amusement.

"Why did you follow me? she questioned, drawing her knees to her chest and crossing her arms over them, almost as if to shield herself from him.

"You seemed distraught," he replied. "I did happen to overhear a bit of what had been said between you and Mary Sue, but it was not deliberate. You both were rather loud." There was no pause in his assured speech, and although Elenmírë was amazed at his bluntness, she groaned at what he might have heard.

"So you know of Mary Sue's suspicions then," she said, knowing that with Haldir, it would be a waste of time to bother with euphemisms.

"Yes." He waited quietly, deciding not to elaborate, making it harder for Elenmírë to find the right way to ask him of his true feelings. She opened her mouth and closed it again, frowning at her lack of expertise in the art of conversation.

"So…?" was all she was able to mutter, cursing under her breath. She shook her head in agitation, silently berating herself for being idiotic, and Haldir reach across, placing his hand under her chin to still her movement. Slowly, she looked up into his face, her cheeks coloring slightly.

"Yes." His eyes softened slightly, but he nodded firmly, answering her silent question.

"B-but, why?" she stuttered in amazement. "Do you mean to tell me that Mary Sue was right?" Haldir paused a moment as he thought before he gave an answer.

"Honestly, I was protective at first," he began unabashedly. "You were of my kin, and you were near death, and I felt I needed to help you. Of course, I was curious as to how it was possible that one so young could be so disheartened. And because you did share the talan with Merry and Pippin, they were quick to inform me of their rather biased opinion of you while I tended to your illness." She cracked a small smile and gave a light laugh.

"What did they say about me?" she questioned, curious as to how her tiny friends really viewed her.

"At first, they threatened to forfeit my life if I did not help revive you," he chuckled, a light twinkling in his eyes. "After I reassured them again and again that you would be fine, they wallowed a bit on the fact that you were no hobbit lass and expressed their mild jealousy of your engagement to Boromir." His face grew serious once again, and his eyes searched hers, but for what, she did not know. "Your hobbit friends were happy for you, yes, but they also said something was amiss. They said that you might not have thought they would have noticed, but they knew you were not initially pleased, especially when the company arrived in Moria." She looked away guiltily. "It was because of Legolas, was it not?" She nodded in answer, unable to find the courage to speak the confession aloud. "With Merry and Pippin speaking on and on about your bravery, your beauty (Elenmírë snorted and muttered quietly, "They are blind, _honestly_!" ) and your compassion, I admit, I became intrigued and wanted to discover as to why such a person with such qualities could be so…for lack of a better word, depressed. And when you finally did regain consciousness, our conversations have always kept my interest, which is saying something. Despite your low view of yourself, you are a…captivating creature." She blushed as he grinned again.

"You do me too much justice, Haldir," she protested, shaking her head.

"You wanted to know," he said innocently, while shooting her a devilish smile. They were silent for a moment, and once again he reached across and caressed her cheek. "It did start with my wanting to protect you I admit, but now, you are by far one of the most interesting creatures I've come upon. I find myself wanting to discover the mysteries you hold, Elenmírë."

"I am nothing more than a plain Elf, a warrior," she argued, shaking her head. "You mistake me for something more, Haldir."

"Your view of yourself may not be the same as that of those who see you in another light," he answered in response. "Remember what I told you before? Your naïveté is rather endearing-"

"Haldir, please," Elenmírë insisted fervently, "you mustn't continue with…with whatever it is you are feeling."

"If that is your wish, then so be it," he stated quietly. A flash of disappointment darted across his face, but it was gone so quickly, she was sure she had merely imagined it. "Do you love Legolas?" he asked suddenly, catching her off guard. She started and became silent, her brow furrowing with thought.

"I remember when I first met him," she began, "and I-I thought he was the most beautiful thing to ever grace Middle Earth." She smiled softly at the memory. "I cannot explain what it is when I am with him. He looks at me, and suddenly, I find myself in a trance with no one else in focus but him. But do I love him?" She shrugged, suddenly unsure of her exact feelings for him. "He complements me. In areas where I am weak, he is strong, and he looked passed this ugly exterior to see me-"

"Did Boromir not do the same thing?" Haldir cut in.

"He did, much sooner than Legolas," Elenmírë admitted, hiding her face behind her hair when strands fell across it as she ducked her head. "With Mary Sue stalking Legolas everywhere he went, I was surprised he even noticed me, but he never showed what he felt until it was too late, and I was with Boromir. And now we're all in this big mess." She sighed and looked up with tired eyes. "Which is the only reason why we, too, must avoid any further advancement beyond friendship." Haldir took her hand in his, squeezing it softly.

"Like I said before, I understand," he said with a quiet, sad smile. "I will do nothing to jeopardize your relationship with Boromir, or Legolas, if that is your wish."

"Thank you, Haldir," she said returning his sad smile with one of her own. "I'll confess, however, if situations were different, I would have returned your affections a hundredfold." The twinkle returned to his eyes.

"If ever you change your mind…" His voice lingered off as he raised a single eyebrow in a questioning arch, but there was mirth in his tone, and they both shared a light laugh.

"If only things were different," she repeated softly, a wistful look glazing over her eyes.

"But the circumstances are what they are, and we must do what we must to deal with them properly," he answered, the depth in his eyes and words reflecting his wisdom. "Though, a part of me wishes that the situations were indeed different…" They openly studied each other, and for a fleeting moment, Elenmírë felt the bizarre urge to curse everyone else and throw herself into Haldir's arms. Haldir was far wiser than both Legolas and Boromir and, with his calming demeanor, was an even better complement to Elenmírë's childish impulses and indecisiveness. Without question, she knew he could easily surpass her skills as a warrior, and that was a quality she held in high regard. He cared not for her looks, or lack thereof; he had told her before, and although it might have insulted most of female kind, she embraced his indifference to her appearance with fervor. With growing unease, she realized how much she truly did desire to follow her instinct and bind herself to the Elf before her. It would make so much sense to leave Boromir and Legolas behind and find happiness in the Woods of Lórien…

Her mind became sober as she remembered with a twinge of guilt the reason she was in Lothlórien in the first place, and she scolded herself slightly for the hypocrisy she had committed the moment she accused Mary Sue of being selfish. _I really am the selfish one,_ she thought to herself forlornly, a frown taking hostage of her lips. She tore her eyes away from Haldir and furrowed her brow as she scolded herself. _I am not here in Lothlórien to find love! I'm here on a quest, bound by a pledge I made to protect the Ringbearer and the Prophesized One! O Holy Valar, Mary Sue was right! I accused her of what I was culpable of the entire time…_

Tears prickled the corners of her eyes, and Haldir started at her sudden change of moods. He leaned closer, gently wiping her tears away, his face full of concern.

"If you wish to weep, do not hold back," he advised gently. "It is best to release your distress than to hold it inside where it may eat at your spirit. Let the sorrow flow free from your system, Elenmírë. Find emotional liberation with your tears." When he offered her open arms, she did not resist and collapsed against him, her body shaking with sobs. "You do not have to be strong at all times, Young One," he whispered. "I will not judge you."

Elenmírë began to mumble incoherently into his shoulder as he swayed her in his arms, one of his hands reaching to stroke her hair while the other gently rubbed her back soothingly. He started to hum, and the tone was now familiar as it was the same lullaby he had sung the night when the hobbits and she were startled high upon the talan by some dark creature with the two bulging eyes. Elenmírë found herself comforted by the song and quieted her cries in order to hear Haldir's soft, soothing voice drift around her. She felt her heart soar with each rising note and when the song diminished, she felt her breathing calm down to a steady pace.

How long they stayed that way, they did not know, nor did they realize that a certain Elven Prince had also been watching them for nearly half of that time. Legolas had been concealed behind a root of another mallorn-tree several yards away, in perfect position to hear everything effortlessly, and the two Elves had been so engaged in their conversation that they did not notice as he slipped into hiding.

Legolas's eyes were narrowed as he stared at the intimate embrace between the two friends. He wanted to yank her out Haldir's arms, and his own limbs tingled with remembrance at how it had felt to hold her the way the Lórien warrior was enfolding her. He inhaled deeply, desperately trying to calm his jealousy. If anything, he knew he had to approach her at least neutrally; he did not want her to run from him as she had before. He knew he would not let her go that willingly again. Unable to take more of the sight of Elenmírë in the arms of another, he disclosed his secret hiding spot and stepped out, revealing himself to the two Elves, who abruptly pulled apart. He forced his face to remain blank as he walked toward them, even though emotions were battling for control of his features.

"Legolas!" she breathed in surprise, her face an open window to her conflicting feelings. Her grey eyes were wide with shock before they narrowed angrily at his habit of watching her. "What, were you spying on me _again_?" she hissed, and Haldir started at this new information.

"Again?" he repeated, turning his suspicious eyes to the Prince of Mirkwood. "You've done this before?"

"More than once," Elenmírë sneered, crossing her arms heatedly.

"I apologize," Legolas replied slowly, lowering his eyes from hers only to land on her lips. He gulped, knowing fully well how her lips tasted beneath his, and he longed to taste them again. "Please, if I may, I desire to speak with you, Elenmírë."

"I have nothing to say to you, Legolas," she replied flatly, her eyes cold.

"Then speak not, but listen instead to what I must say," he said slowly, though a hint of panic and pleading could be heard in his undertone.

"_No_," she growled emphatically, and Haldir stood to block Legolas's way.

"Do you deny the Lady's wishes?" he said softly, though the threat in his voice was unmistakable, and Elenmírë suddenly looked up fearfully at the growing impatience on Legolas's face. _Oh no, _she thought in alarm, _this isn't what is supposed to happen!_ Immediately she got up, and placed a hand on Haldir's arm, drawing his attention to her.

"I can handle this, Haldir," she whispered gently, her eyes growing soft as she took in the look of protectiveness and concern on his face. "But I give you my thanks." His hand covered hers, giving it a tender squeeze. She smiled before turning her gaze to Legolas, who steeled himself as if facing judgment. "Fine," she said tiredly. "Say what you must, but we will converse in private." She turned back to Haldir, and on impulse, she flung herself at him and gave him a tight embrace. "Thank you. For everything." She pulled away to catch the look of suffering on Legolas's face which he immediately removed, and she followed him.

They walked in no particular direction, and when they were finally out of Haldir's hearing range, Legolas exhaled quietly, stealing glances at the She-Elf walking beside him. She was no beauty by any means, but with his odd logic, that was part of why she was beautiful to him. She felt his stare and looked up at him, and the immediate connection was made between them as grey met blue. She blushed fiercely at the obvious love she saw reflecting there and looked away, unable to understand just why he would chose her.

"What did you want to say to me?" she asked, her voice cracking. He reached out his hand to her arm, stopping her in her tracks, and they stood close, facing each other. Immediately, Elenmírë took a step back to put more distance between the two of them, and smirking slightly, Legolas took a step forward. Her eyes widened as she backed away, but he continued to advance, ignoring her muffled gasps of protest. Then she could not retreat any farther for her back made soft contact with the solid bark of a mallorn-tree, and Legolas closed in on her, his eyes concentrating on nothing else but on the grey of her eyes.

"I just wanted to say," he began, brushing his lips against her cheek, delighting in her shiver, "I love you." She turned her face to the side, blushing fiercely, unaware that the movement exposed the sensitive skin of her neck, just below her ear. Instinctively, Legolas's lips found their way there, and he nuzzled her neck, succeeding in emitting a whimper from her.

"Legolas, no," she protested weakly, turning her head back to it's original position, but now his lips were nearly over hers, and she pressed herself even farther into the tree, as if she were trying to mold herself to it.

"I heard almost everything, Elenmírë," he whispered just against her lips. His hot breath tickled the sensitive skin, and she felt faint, now grateful for his arms around her for if they hadn't been, she would have surely fallen, weak from desire.

"What did you hear?" she rasped, afraid that if she moved her lips too much, they would come in contact with his, and she knew if he claimed her mouth, she would not have the strength to deny him.

"You said I complemented you, did you not?" he muttered, his eyes turning a dark cerulean shade as his voice grew with intense passion. Her greys widened, and she looked frightened, unable to vocally confirm it. Instead she opted for a simple nod, but she dared not move too much for his lips were now nearly on hers. _Elbereth, help me, _she thought fleetingly. "Then why do you fight me?" he asked, his voice riddled with pain. "Why do you turn me away and deny me when you need me the way I need you?" His fingers went to her cheek, tracing soft lines down the curves until his fingertips reached her lips, and she inhaled sharply, her lips tingling with impatience for his. "I see it in your eyes," he growled intensely. "Answer me, melamin. Why do you deny me?"

"Boromir," she murmured. "Have you forgotten the simple fact that I am already engaged?"

"Does he make you shiver like that?" he snarled in a dangerously low tone as his fingers continued to caress the plump softness of her lips. "Do you find yourself drowning in his eyes like this?" _Oh gods, Legolas, what are you doing to me? _her mind was screaming. _Leave me, please, before I do something I'll regret-_

Her thoughts were interrupted as he did exactly as her thoughts asked, and he stepped away from her so suddenly, she almost fell with shock. Her eyes were wide as she stared at him in disbelief.

"Wh-wha…Why…?" she stuttered stupidly, suddenly incredibly confused with his actions. He stood before her now a step away, and her body ached with longing, missing the warmth and strength he had provided and had taken away so cruelly. He stared hard at her, his breathing shallow, and yet he kept his arms to his sides, his hands clenched into tight fists.

"Do you want me?" he demanded, and she could only gape at him. "Tell me, Elenmírë, did you mean what you said when you told Mary Sue to take me away?" Her lips trembled as she looked at him, torn as to respond with a lie or with the truth. He took half a step closer, and she trembled visibly, wanting to give into the yearning to confess her true feelings for him and to close the distance between them.

"Legolas…I…" Her voice failed her as she stared up at him in defeat and shrugged helplessly.

"I leave the choice to you, mela," he whispered. He spread his arms in an open gesture. "These arms are open to you if you so desire to be with me, Elenmírë, but you will have to take the first step. I will not force you." Her jaw dropped at him, and she gawked in incredulity.

"And wha-what if I do not take your offer?" she whispered, her voice wavering. He met her grey eyes with his azure ones determinedly.

"Then I will grant your earlier wish, and go to Mary Sue," he answered with a note of finality. "I'll only do what you ask of me. I love you too much to protest."

"Bu-but why now?" she cried out in desperation. "Why ask me to make this choice now?"

"I'd rather have closure before the journey becomes too threatening, Elenmírë," he sighed tiredly. "The dark times ahead will only prove to be too much if we do not settle this while we can. Do you honestly think we can fight to the best of our abilities with this on our minds?" He let out a bitter, humorless laugh. "You distract me. I cannot even concentrate on the goal of our mission because I've wallowed too much." He lowered his voice to a hiss. "Give me peace, in one way or another, Elenmírë. I cannot continue on this journey without an answer." He gazed at her imploringly, standing tall in all his glory as an Elven Prince. "What is your decision, melamin?"

* * *

TBC..  



	19. Chapter Eighteen: Interference

**Disclaimer: **Nothing is mine except the foolish Half-Elven girl Elenmírë, whom I sometimes want to slap silly. She really needs professional help. Don't even know why Legolas and Haldir bother with her anymore (oh gods, I'm growing jealous of my own OC haha). Tolkien, New Line, et al, own everything else.

**Author's Notes: **_01/19/06_ - I remember why I took a break from this story. I wrote so much drama, I just couldn't handle it anymore, haha. Let's say when this story gets into the Two Towers part, the drama will be _a lot_ more subtle. LOL.

**The Imperfect One**  
By: Goddess-Isis-112

Chapter Eighteen: Interference

"What is your decision?" Legolas questioned again when she did not answer. Her jaw had dropped slightly, but no sound could be heard from her mouth. She bowed her head, unable to look into his eyes any longer. True to his word, Legolas remained where he was, close enough for her reach out and kiss him if she desired, but he made no movement whatsoever. The choice was hers and hers alone, and he vowed to remain there as long as he needed until she answered him.

Finally, she looked up, locking her grey eyes with his, and although her face remained blank, her eyes were once again the only indicators of the emotions flying crazily in her mind. Very slowly, she felt her hand reach out as though she had no control over it, and Legolas's eyes grew wide, hope flashing wildly across his features. He leaned forward slightly, willing for her fingers to grace his cheek with their touch. She was close, so close…

Just as Elenmírë opened her mouth to whisper her answer, heavy footsteps alerted the two Elves, and to her horror, Boromir strode in their direction, his eyes full of fury. Legolas slowly backed away from Elenmírë and steeled himself against the verbal attack that would inevitably ensue.

"WHAT IS GOING ON!" Boromir boomed loudly as he reached the pair, and Elenmírë gulped, petrified to her spot against the tree.

"It is night, and you should rest," she started in a quavering voice, but Boromir waved his hand at her attempt to change the subject.

"I'll find no rest here," he muttered, his eyes flashing with suspicion and pain as he flicked his gaze over her pale face. He snapped his head and glared hatefully at the Prince of Mirkwood. "Answer me." The two remained silent, unable to make eye contact, and Elenmírë shuffled uncomfortably on her feet. When no one dared to speak for a few minutes, she sighed heavily, keeping her gaze firm on the grass surrounding her feet.

"How did you know I was here?" Elenmírë whispered in response, succeeding in angering the Man of Gondor even more so than he was. At that moment, gone was the loving man she had known, and in his place stood a man full of rage. She also knew that she could not kiss his pain away this time; her decision had to be made now.

"I heard the Lady's voice," he growled, and she stiffened slightly at the revelation. Galadriel told him of her whereabouts? But why? "She led me, and I followed the sound of her voice, only to be greeted with this.." He took in a deep shuddering breath. "Now, ANSWER ME, Elenmírë!" His voice fell to a soft, dangerous tone. "Why. Are. You. Here?" Despite his lowered volume, she flinched at the intensity of his rancor. Steadying her breath, she lifted her eyes to his, frightened of Boromir for the first time.

"I was brought out here to make a choice," she began slowly, choosing her words carefully, acknowledging that any mistake now could result in a full brawl.

"What for?" Boromir's lip curled up into a sneer, but there was a hint of fear at her words, and he clenched his hands into fists angrily.

"To chose between the two of you," she uttered, barely audible, and Boromir exploded.

"Your choice has already been made!" he shouted angrily, his eyes flashing at Legolas. "Why do you haunt her footsteps, Elf! Can you not see she is _my_ betrothed? She does not need you spying her every move!" He stalked over to Elenmírë's side, his aura threatening as he closed in on her, and her eyes grew wide with open terror. "And why does the Elf feel that there is even a decision to be made, Elenmírë? Why-"

"Tell him of your true feelings, mela," Legolas cut in, his eyes pleading, and she looked back to Boromir who's face was a mask of pain and anger, daring her to utter one syllable of her betrayal. Back and forth she looked between the two males, her mind screaming insanely in her head as her heart threw an angry tantrum at being denied, and she shut her eyes tightly, covering her ears with her hands.

"Leave me be, both of you!" she cried out, shrinking away from them. "Leave me alone!" They started at her reaction, and both reached for her, but she swung her arm wildly, succeeding in making contact with the gentle firmness of Legolas's cheek. He straightened, not so much from pain (though the blow did throb as Elenmírë was no weak female by any means), as from shock. He stood frozen in place, his hand on his cheek as Boromir's attempts to grab a hold of her were also fouled.

"Why are you acting like this?" Boromir growled, his anger finally directed at her. "Why do you feel the need to run each and every time I try to find answers from you? You are my betrothed, Elenmírë! We do not keep secrets from one another-"

"I do not want to marry you!" she spat out finally, the reality of her words sinking in, and Boromir recoiled as if he were the one slapped. Legolas completely forgot about his pain or the fact that she had hit him. He was awaiting anxiously for her to continue, for her to say the words that would be in his favor, but it was a frail hope, for her eyes found his and she growled, "nor do I wish to be with you, Legolas." The sincerity in her tone was unmistakable.

"You don't love me…?" Boromir whispered into the air, devoid of any emotion other than shock. "This entire time, you did not love-"

"I did, and I still do, Boromir," she cried.

"Then why this?" he asked, his tone flat, his face hardening with uncontrollable pain. "Why break free from me if you still love-"

"Because I love Legolas, too," she said in defeat, hanging her head as Legolas snapped his up to gape at her. "Mary Sue was right," she continued in a hushed tone. "I am a selfish person, and to stay with you would have been nothing but selfish because I would not be able to give all my love to you the way you would give all your love to me. You deserve more than that, Boromir." She turned her eyes to Legolas. "And I cannot be with you, Legolas, for the same reason. I need to clear my mind without having to worry about the two of you constantly. Look at us!" She spread her arms wide. "Look at the three of us, acting like lovesick fools! It is like you said, Legolas. There are more important things to dwell upon. I have worried far too much about my life when the lives of all the Free Peoples in Middle Earth depend on the success of our mission. It is only right to focus our attention to that cause alone, which is why I release you, Boromir, from your bind to me."

"Elenmírë, despite this…this argument, I do not want that," he whispered. "I still love you, and I do not wish for this to end this way-"

"But I do," she choked, "only because I cannot give you what you need. I love you, and a part of me always will, but I cannot deal with a relationship at this moment, not when the burden of our mission demands all of our attention. I'm sorry Boromir." She sniffed to keep her tears from falling. "If…When this mission ends, maybe my heart will have decided by then, but I cannot give you an answer right now-"

"I will not wait," Boromir snapped without warning, his eyes growing unusually dark and unfamiliar. His words stung her more than she realized, and as her breathing became shallow, her hands flew to her chest over her heart. She sagged against the bark of the tree behind her as realization began to sink into her mind. Boromir had always been a source of strength for her; he had always been by her side throughout it all, and she had become dependant upon it, always firmly believing that he would never leave her side. Now, the actuality of his words burned a hole in her heart, and her knees gave away as she slid down to the forest floor, drawing her knees to her chest once more.

She lifted her gaze to stare at Boromir again as he looked completely unaffected by her sudden loss of strength. He suddenly took on the appearance of a stranger, and she blinked again to refocus her eyes; he looked sinister and untrustworthy, but she denied the vision before her.

"You are not yourself," she whispered, her throat dry. "I do not recognize you anymore-"

"You should speak," he scoffed with an empty laugh. "Where is the valiant warrior who stole my heart from me? I do not see her here. All that is left of her is a simpering, crying, dreadful mess…a shadow of the one I loved. _She never_ _would have betrayed me._" With that, Boromir pivoted on his heel and fled the same way he had come, and Legolas stared hard at the crying She-Elf huddled at the base of the tree. He kneeled before her, but she turned buried her face in her hands, refusing to look at him.

"Go away," she rasped, her voice barely audible. "You've heard my decision."

"All I recall is your declaration of love, melamin," he answered softly, "and now I know why you have kept yourself from me."

"But you know that I am unstable," she wept, and when he reached for her hand, she did not object, but instead, looked up at him through her blurred vision.

"Yes, and I will give you time," he replied, placing a loving kiss on her hand.

"What?" she said in confusion, shaking her head uncertainly. "Did you not say that you would go to Mary Sue-"

"I have heard the words that I have only wished to hear from you alone," he said, placing another gentle kiss on her palm, a gesture that reminded her only too well of her first love, and the tears sprung anew. She pulled her hand away from him, but she did not disconnect her gaze from his. "That was the only answer I wished to hear from you. If you are not ready now, then I will wait as long as I have to." A soft smile spread across his face as her eyes filled with unrestricted love, and he leaned in to tenderly place a chaste kiss on her cheek. "Until then, I shall not insist on rushing you." She nodded, unable to do anything else, and Legolas took that as his cue to grant her wish and leave her. As he walked away, he resisted the urge to turn back to her, knowing that she needed this time alone to recover from what had just happened.

Elenmírë watched his retreating figure with her heart beating madly at his response, but it was not enough to keep the pain from swirling in a mad storm inside. The only face in her mind at the moment was that of Boromir's, and she recalled the gentle way he had looked at her when they had shared their first fateful kiss under the willows, the way he was always happy when they spent countless hours in Rivendell with Merry and Pippin. And the vivid memory of how he had taken her into his arms that night of her betrayal after fleeing from her forbidden kiss with Legolas did nothing to stop her from wishing that she had never met the Prince of Mirkwood. And although Boromir had finally relinquished his claim on her, she could not help but wonder at his sudden change in mood. It was as if he had snapped into a different person in the matter of seconds, pleading with her one minute not to leave him and then emotionlessly discarding her the next. It made no sense, and she marveled at what could have caused it. She shook her head in disbelief. She was about to refuse Legolas's offer, immediately running to Boromir as soon as the task was complete, but Boromir's sudden appearance changed everything, and now she was left alone once more.

Her thoughts turned to Galadriel, and the pain she was feeling quickly transformed to that of bitterness and anger, desperately seeking for any reason at all that the Lady of the Wood might have to have sent Boromir to her at that exact moment in time. It changed absolutely everything, and Elenmírë began to blame the wise She-Elf.

_"Do not pass judgment just yet, young one," _a voice snapped in annoyance in her head, and the young Elf jumped to her feet immediately.

"Look what you have done, my Lady!" Elenmírë whispered harshly into the air, her tears streaming down her face as her head whipped back and forth and up and down, searching for Galadriel. "I am no longer engaged to be married, and-"

_"You have set in motion what the Valar have in store for you," _the Lady cut in. _"That is what matters the most."_

"Am I to be alone!" she cried out abrasively. "Is that what the Valar wish for me!"

_"Hush your tongue, young one,"_ Galadriel murmured, and immediately the sight of her angry, ethereal eyes flashed angrily in Elenmírë's head, and the She-Elf cried out in alarm.

_"Do not be insolent,"_ the Lady commanded, her tone calming a bit. _"Follow my voice for I have much to show you."_

"I care not to see it," Elenmírë muttered angrily, crossing her arms.

_"Do you refuse my command when I have been hospitable and allowed your company to enter my Wood?"_ Galadriel's voice was threatening, and suddenly, to her left, the Lady seemed to have emerged from thin air, and Elenmírë shrank back in panic. "You often comment on how young the human girl is, and yet, you still act as if you are much younger than she," she reprimanded. "You have been selfish for far too long, Elenmírë. This is not about you, but about the future of this very world, and if you wish not to heed my orders, then Middle Earth is lost."

"I do not want that burden," Elenmírë whispered, ashamed.

"But it is yours to bear," Galadriel replied, her tone and anger softening. "Your part is an important one for you must protect both the Ringbearer and the One. Your fate has already been written, and you must learn to read the lines." Elenmírë bowed her head in humiliation.

"I am sorry, my Lady." Her cheeks were flaming with mortification at her own words and actions, and she silently berated herself. The Lady listened to the inner workings of the young She-Elf's mind, and she nodded in approval. There was no harsher critic than Elenmírë herself; no words the Lady could say could hurt worse than the insults flying crazily through Elenmírë's brain. It was time for the young She-Elf to see the glimpse of the future.

"Follow me, young one," Galadriel commanded, and this time Elenmírë did not fight but abided, and together they walked back toward the city.

* * *

TBC… 


	20. Chapter Nineteen: The Mirror of Galadrie...

**Disclaimer: **Fortunately for all of you, I do not own The Lord of the Rings, Middle Earth etc. I own Elenmírë, though she would argue otherwise and say she belongs to no one.

**Author's Note: **_01/19/06_ - I've taken down the long author's note (rant, more like) that was added to this chapter at the end. If I feel the need to post something like that again, it'll appear on my profile and not in a story.

**The Imperfect One**  
By: Goddess-Isis-112

**Chapter Nineteen: The Mirror of Galadriel and the Departure from Lothlórien**

Elenmírë gulped nervously as Galadriel studied her in complete silence, her eyes dark with quiet anger. Never before had Elenmírë ever been so terrified of anyone, and for a fleeting moment, she recalled the day in her father's private study when he had scolded both herself and Mary Sue, but her fear then seemed minute in comparison to the trepidation she was feeling at that very moment.

Galadriel had led her to a secluded clearing at the base of an impressively large mallorn-tree, and in the center resided a sort of well. Galadriel stood across the clearing from her, holding a beautifully simple pitcher, which she calmly filled with the water from a fountain carefully encased between two mallorn-roots. Silently, the Elf Queen walked toward the well, pouring the crystal liquid into it, and with a slight nod of her head, beckoned for Elenmírë to move forward.

"Come, child," she spoke, her soft voice laced with a hint of lingering annoyance.

"What am I to do?" Elenmírë asked, shrinking away. Galadriel narrowed her eyes, her shoulders raising slightly as she gave a small sigh.

"Will you look into the mirror?" she asked, moving her gaze to the still surface.

"If it will please you, my Lady," Elenmírë stammered, and Galadriel's eyes turned an even darker shade of grey.

"How is it that Elrohir and Elladan were always so quick to inform me of your sharp wit and tongue?" Galadriel stated coldly. "Where is the warrior they spoke of for I do not see her here." A surge of anger surfed through Elenmírë's veins, and she clenched her fists in anger, her eyes flashing at the Elf Queen.

"Why do you feel the need to insult me when I have already received enough of it from Boromir today?" she growled before she could control herself. "I give you my apologies for not being worthy enough a warrior to grace your presence but I am not, by any means, a weakling." She bit her lip, knowing she had said too much, but to her surprise, the Lady smiled softly, unperturbed by Elenmírë's outburst.

"Ah, finally," she answered casually. "A hint of your fire, good. It would have disappointed me to see you burst into another fit of tears." Elenmírë blushed but kept her gaze steady, her mind silently working overtime to come up with valid reasons as to why the Lady of the Wood was trying to provoke her. Galadriel merely smiled in her mysterious way, reading her thoughts as if they were plainly written across her face. "Why, you ask, young one? All this is merely a test, you see."

"A test for what?" Elenmírë inquired.

"Your will must be strong enough to face what is written in your future," Galadriel explained calmly. "Emotional weakness is no longer an option, young one. The darkness grows, and you cannot allow yourself to think of anything save what would happen if you should fail."

"But is my role that important to the cause?" Elenmírë asked, feeling the burden of the Lady's words on her shoulders.

"Yes." The Lady's simple answer baffled the young She-Elf into silence, and her eyes landed wearily on the well before her; she then brought her gaze to meet that of the Queen before her, who then gave her an encouraging nod. Elenmírë approached the well, gripping the circular edge to steady herself, and gathering her courage, she looked down into the silvery water.

At first, nothing out of the ordinary appeared; only ripples caressed the calm surface, but as she concentrated, her reflection grew hazy and a soft mist arose, shimmering into an image.

"Legolas!" she choked out as he face appeared clearly, and his eyes locked with hers in a loving glance. His smile spread across his face, and she felt her own lips twitch in response just as his image melted away into that of another.

Standing tall with his head held regally was Haldir, and a wave of warmth spread through her as her mouth went dry. He was beautiful to say the least, and without another thought, reached her hand to grace the surface, completely entranced by the look in his eyes.

Then, almost as quickly, the water darkened, and Boromir's face replaced that of Haldir's. Elenmírë recoiled in alarm, completely taken by surprise at the look that had control of Boromir's features. His wonderful grey eyes were narrowed, shining with the barest hint of malice. The lips that were once adorned with his brilliant smile were now turned down into a dreadful sneer, and Elenmírë felt her insides grow cold. There _had _to be something wrong with Galadriel's mirror; that image was not the Boromir she knew.

Before she could even dare to understand the meaning of it all, his image faded away to reveal a dark, looming black gate with warriors strewn at its feet. The only light to illuminate the scene was the fiery redness of the flames that erupted from a source that she was unable to discern for a moment. Her focus turned to a crumpled heap on the bloodied floor. Her eyes widened when she took in the dark hair, the pale skin, and the slightly pointed tips of the ears. Almost as if in slow motion, Legolas walked into the frame, and knelt by the fallen warrior. Blood smeared his tunic as he took the lifeless form into his arms, and tears clung to his cheek.

"Melamin," he whispered.

"No," Elenmírë gasped, unable to tear her eyes away from the scene that played out before her. Legolas caressed her face, and Elenmírë was finally able to see who it was he held in his arms. She could not back away from the well no matter how much her heart protested for she was held captive by the sight of her own death. Then, a dark shadow loomed over Legolas, but he seemed not to care, clutching in frail hope to Elenmírë's body. He said nothing as the Uruk behind him swung an ax down over the couple, and the She-Elf finally jerked herself away, suddenly finding it laborious to breathe. Her hand immediately came to rest over her heart and she winced in pain, unable to quench the fear that had suddenly grabbed a hold of her.

"I know what it is you saw," Galadriel replied, eerily calm, "for it is also in my mind."

"Is this my fate?" Elenmírë asked, having difficulty in controlling the tremble of her body.

"We do not yet know, but yes, it is a possibility," she answered.

"I do not want to die," the younger she-elf whispered, unable to meet Galadriel's gaze.

"You have time, young one," the Elven Queen reminded her gently, "but not much. Follow your instincts, especially those of your heart, and you will find a way. You _must_ learn to believe in yourself, Elenmírë. Distractions and doubts will be detrimental to the completion of this mission." She smiled vaguely as she shuffled through Elenmírë's thoughts, and the younger She-Elf could feel her probing her mind, but was too weary to care. The visions of the mirror weakened her state, and she needed rest and soon.

"I will do what I must, my Lady," she swallowed visibly. "But may I-"

"Go rest," Galadriel cut in, giving Elenmírë a soft smile. "Remember, young one. The mirror only shows what _may_ happen." Elenmírë gave a brief nod, and Galadriel watched in silence as the young She-Elf walked away, still trembling slightly at what she had seen. _May the Valar help her_, Galadriel prayed silently and sighed.

An hour or so later, Haldir found Elenmírë lying on her side at the foot of a mallorn, resting her head on a tuft of soft grass with her eyes glazed over with sleep. The camp in which her companions were sleeping was no less than twenty yards away, and Haldir deduced that she must have been far too tired to walk the rest of the way. He knew how draining the visions of the mirror could be, and he approached the sleeping She-Elf, kneeling by her side.

What was it about her that affected him so? She was indeed an odd sort of creature, he concluded, and she had an invisible wall built around her, as if to protect herself from the rest of the world, but inside, he knew she was vulnerable. He knew her tough exterior was merely an act, for was it not just hours ago when he held her crying in his arms? He studied her face, his hand reaching across to caress her cheek, and in her sleep, she shifted slightly, leaning into his touch as her lips curved into a smile. He grinned in response, knowing that she could see him in her sleep if she wanted. He softly removed his hand, and almost immediately, she let out an incoherent protest, but he dared not move. A frown replaced her soft smile, but Haldir resisted the urge to hold her. He would not betray his promise to her, and he quietly rose to his feet, willing himself to walk away from her when the glassy look of her eyes faded, and she blinked up at him, just as he turned away.

"Haldir?" she whispered, sitting up as he swerved around.

"Elenmírë," he nodded in greeting, not making any sort of attempt to draw closer to her. "You must rest. I apologize for disturbing you." His eyes narrowed with concern at the trepidation in her expression.

"You really weren't disturbing me," she said, her gaze meeting his.

"No, you must rest," he insisted again. "I see it in your eyes. You are tired. Go to sleep." She sat up straighter with indignation, and he sighed in exasperation at her stubborness.

"Why aren't _you_ resting?" she shot back, crossing her arms, and he shrugged as if the answer were obvious.

"I am not tired," he replied. "You, on the other hand, have been traveling for months, and you still have a ways to go. You must recover your strength." She lowered her eyes, knowing he was right, but it was obvious that something was troubling her. "What is it that ails you, Elenmírë?"

"The mirror," she whispered. "I saw..." Her voice drifted off, and she shook her head. "Nothing." Haldir knew she was lying but decided against questioning her further if she would not give the information freely. He merely nodded, and after pausing for a moment to study her, he turned and walked away, feeling her eyes on him as he moved out of sight.

More than ever, confusion clouded her thoughts. The company of ten would surely leave the next morning; they could not linger any longer than they already have, and yet, Elenmírë wanted to stay in the Golden Wood. The region called to her, and her heart yearned for her to relinquish her vow to the Fellowship and stay within the safe walls of Caras Galadhon, and maybe, just maybe, staying in the Golden Wood would prevent the horrible vision of her death from coming true...

She lay her head back down, shifting until she found a comfortable position.

No. She promised to protect the Ringbearer with her life, and she was not going to go against her word. No matter how much the Golden Wood pleaded with her to stay, she would not dare forfeit her vow to the Fellowship, but as her eyes followed the path which Haldir had followed, her heart sunk and was once again battling with conflicting emotions.

"I do not know what to do," she whispered into the still night. She sighed, and minutes later, her eyes glazed over as she fell asleep.

The next morning, Elenmírë had awoken just before the sun's first light, and her energy was restored from her well deserved rest. She strolled calmly into the camp where the others were just beginning to stir, and Legolas immediately smiled in her direction, but as he remembered his words from the night before, he kept his distance and did not move to greet her in any other fashion. Elenmírë smiled back gratefully, though visions of the mirror swam in her mind as soon as she saw him, and immediately she looked away from him, never seeing his lips frown in concern. She shut her eyes momentarily to clear away the images of his misery. It was not her death itself that pained her so, but the expression of loss and hoplessness she had seen on Legolas's face.

And she was the cause of it all.

Her throat tightened sharply, and she gave a small gasp to clear her airways. There was only one way to prevent Legolas from suffering from her loss if her death was inevitable, but that would only mean she would have to-

She shivered slightly before opening her eyes, forcing herself to think no more of it. Her gaze roamed over to Boromir on its own accord, and once more, her throat constricted, making it difficult to breathe.

Despite a full night's rest, his face was lined with anxiety, and his eyes reflected a sort of secret madness. When he looked over at her, he sneered in her direction before tearing his gaze away, refusing to acknowledge her presence. Elenmírë clamped her jaw together, refusing to allow herself to be affected by his behavior, but despite her outward appearance, she was dying inside, hating the look of contempt that contorted his features. _I miss you, Boromir!_ she wanted to yell at the top of her lungs. _I honestly never meant to hurt you._ She sighed, knowing that it would be some time before she could approach him again.

Keeping her composure, she looked away from her former love and nodded briefly to Aragorn and, a bit awkwardly, she also nodded in greeting to Mary Sue. The young girl mimicked her actions, though she seemed far more subdued than was normal. Her violet eyes strayed from the She-Elf and landed on the Mirkwood youth as he carefully polished his blade before replacing it back into its sheath. A pang of guilt riddled Elenmírë's heart as she watched the longing fill Mary Sue's eyes. The girl _was_ in love with Legolas, there was no doubt, and she was suffering. It was written plainly across her face, and a sudden revelation hit Elenmírë as she studied the human girl. The look on Mary Sue's face was so familiar it filled Elenmírë with dread; the roles were now switched, she realized. Her heart hammered with pity for the human girl, and self-hatred burned from within. Elenmírë hung her head with guilt, and the urge to strike herself was growing with each passing second.

_Holy Valar, am I really _that_ much like Mary Sue as she was before?_ she contemplated silently, drawing her brows together as her throughts raced through her brain frantically. The idea was disturbing, and after a moment of feeling horribly confused, her mind cleared suddenly as an idea dawned on her. There was one way to end Legolas from suffering in the future as well as putting an end to Mary Sue's distress. She did not enjoy the human girl's company, but Elenmírë knew the torture of loving someone who seemed not to have the same feelings, and she felt far worse knowing that she was the reason for Mary Sue's affliction and Legolas's future pain.

_I am selfish_, Elenmírë admitted, _but no longer. I must do what I can to stop this all. If I have to suffer in the process, then so be it. I am a warrior; I will survive._ She looked over to Legolas, and her heart protested slightly at her decision, but if there was any way to prevent his suffering from happening, she was willing to risk it all.

A whooping cry broke her free from her thoughts, and her guilt deepened when she saw Merry and Pippin nearly attack an elf who had approached them with food for breakfast. They were a small, insignificant group of people to most of Middle Earth, but hobbits were amazing creatures. They seemed perpetually happy and lived a naturally simple life, and it was definintely not fair that it was one of their own to carry such a heavy burden to rid the world of evil. Elenmírë knew she had no time to dwell on her trivial love life. None of it was as important as protecting the one who had vowed to risk his life to save the world.

At that moment, Frodo turned his eyes to look at her, and it disturbed her to no end to see his brilliant eyes haunted with the weight of his task. She knew she could not let herself be distracted any further from protecting him; she bound her life to save his, and she would be damned if ever she wallowed in her self-misery again before focusing on the more important things. With that, the load on her shoulders seemed to lighten considerably.

_I will not think of Legolas nor will Boromir consume my thoughts,_ she swore to herself. _From now until the completion of my task, they will be nothing to me save companions in our mission to protect the Ringbearer._

As the She-Elf joined her hobbit friends, Galadriel watched her carefully, veiled behind the trees around her, and a slight smile touched her face as she lurked through Elenmírë's mental battle, but there was a disturbing shadow within the young She-Elf's mind. _Does she truly believe she can save Legolas from suffering if she forces him to relinquish his vow to her?_ Galadriel questioned, troubled at Elenmírë's logic. _Ah, I have but one more chance to show her her path! Elbereth, help me._

After breakfast, the Fellowship of Ten stood at the edge of the Golden Wood, gazing out into the tiny inlet of water, which they knew led out to the Great River. They all stood in a row, gazing out in contemplation, none of them wishing to leave the wonderful woods of Lothlórien, but knowing that their departure was inevitable. One by one, they turned away from the water, and the company was silently greeted by a group consisting of ten elves, including Haldir, whose expression was hard to discern as his gaze locked with Elenmírë. Though he wore a small grin on his face, his eyes were troubled, and she tilted her head to the side in question. He gave her a slight shake of his head and looked down at the cloak in his hands.

Celeborn appeared behind Haldir and studied each member of the Fellowship before he spoke. "Never before have we clad strangers in the garb of our own people." Each Elf stepped forward to one of the Fellowship, and Haldir approached Elenmírë slowly. As they locked eyes once more, Haldir's lips pulled into a frown, and as he broke visual contact, he wrapped the cloak around her shoulders, securing it with a beautiful green leaf clasp. He swept her hair away from her face, and with a gentle brush of his hand on her cheek, he whispered, "Cormamin niuve tenna' ta elea lle au' (My heart shall weep until it sees thee again)." Her breath caught in her throat as the last of his mask fell away and the pain in his eyes finally became visible. Though tears threatened to sprout to her eyes, she kept them at bay, refusing to breakdown again, but it was difficult keeping her composure, especially when words could not convey exactly how much she was going to miss him. Instead, she impulsively threw her arms about him and held him in a fierce hug, tucking her head just under his chin. At first, he was taken by surprise and did not react, but then she felt his arms wound around her as he buried his face against her hair. However, he pulled away from her quickly, and she let out a cry of protest, but he did not stop to look back at her as he marched away, and she bit her lip to keep from sobbing as his figure diminished into the woods.

Mary Sue, who stood to her left, looked up at Elenmírë in complete alarm, and then the girl's gaze fell on the Prince of Mirkwood who stood on Elenmírë's other side, and his eyes were also on the She-Elf, his expression crushed. Elenmírë however was oblivious to all of it as she kept her gaze steady to the distant trees, and Celeborn continued before anyone could speak.

"May these cloaks help shield you from unfriendly eyes," he said solemnly, and with a final nod, he turned to Aragorn and took him aside, speaking in hushed, worried tones.

"What just happened between the two of you?" Mary Sue asked Elenmírë in a low voice as the She-Elf finally looked away from the distance and stared blankly at the girl.

"He said farewell," she answered.

"It was more than that," Legolas muttered, and Elenmírë swerved around to look at him.

"There are some things you know nothing about," she said softly, turning away. _Like my visions of our deaths...I must set you free if you are to survive this..._

"I know what I saw," he snapped back. He was greeted with silence, and his eyes bore into her, but she refused to glance his way. "Elenmírë-"

"Stop," she cut in tiredly. "Please, just stop."

"Fine," he snapped, moving away from her, and she sighed heavily just as she caught sight of Galadriel floating towards them in a swan-shaped boat. She gracefully climbed onto shore with two servants behind her, both of whom carried an array of items. As she approached the Fellowship, her voice whispered a greeting into Elenmírë's mind, and the younger She-Elf studied her as she began bestowing gifts to the members of the company.

_"Elenmírë,"_ she addressed. _"I know what it is that troubles you, Young One. Did you not pay heed to my words?"_

_"My Lady, I don't want him to hurt as much as he would if I were to die,"_ Elenmírë argued with her eyes on Legolas. _"It is best I force him out now before pain befalls him-"_

_"Young One, he hurts even now,"_ Galadriel interrupted, approaching the Hobbits and Gimli. As her laughter rung into the air at something Gimli had said, the Lady continued. _"You have no control over the emotions he will feel, Elenmírë. That is virtually impossible. You are both very young, and the best you can do is to follow your heart, Young One."_ The Lady's voice grew quiet in her mind as she wandered through Elenmírë's thoughts, and when she finally approached Elenmírë, she handed the younger She-Elf a simple silver band, fitting it over Elenmírë's wrist. "When you are in mortal danger, Elenmírë, this will aid you and give you strength, revealing your true identity. Do not give up hope."

"My true identity?" she repeated in confusion, only to be rewarded with Galadriel's mysterious smile.

"Time, my dear," she said. "Only time will tell." As Elenmírë looked down to study the silver wristlet, she caught sight of a piece of parchment in her hand, and Galadriel's voice entered her mind once more. _"He is waiting for you."_ Her head snapped up in confusion, but Galadriel continued on to Mary Sue, to whom she handed a beautifully carved dagger in a leather sheath adorned with gold embroidery.

Discreetly, Elenmírë unfolded the small parchment, reading the hastily written message that simply said, _This was where I held you when you cried. Meet me there once more._ There was no signature, but she knew exactly who wrote it and where to meet, and when the gift giving was over, Legolas, Boromir, and Aragorn moved to pack the boats with supplies. Elenmírë's glanced back and forth across the Fellowship and whispered urgently to Mary Sue who idly stood beside her.

"I've forgotten something," she said in a hushed tone, and Mary Sue's eyes narrowed suspiciously.

"What was it?" she asked.

"I must go back to get it," Elenmírë continued. "I won't be long, but if anyone inquires-"

"What did you forget?" Mary Sue questioned insistently, but Elenmírë turned and fled back into the woods, darting through bushes and around trees, just as Galadriel's voice whispered in her mind, _"Remember my words, Young One...it will be some time before you hear my advice once more."_ Her voice faded as Elenmírë reached her destination. Her heart was pounding wildly from the adrenaline rushing through her veins as she approached the mallorn tree with a natural shelter formed from two of its roots. She was suddenly unsure of her hasty decision to flee to him at the last moment, but when she ducked down to enter the shelter, all doubts washed away as Haldir turned to her, his eyes shining brightly.

"I was uncertain as to whether or not you would read the parchment I had left in your hand when I left," he greeted, holding his hand out to her. She took it, and he drew her close, embracing her again. "It was far too difficult for me to say my good-bye with the Fellowship watching-"

"I understand, Haldir, but I cannot tarry," Elenmírë whispered. "I must go. The Fellowship must leave."

"I know." He released her, but they remained close, and he cupped her face in his hands. "You _must_ be careful, Elenmírë."

"I will," she said with a nod, and gulped when her eyes grew misty. "If only I could stay..."

"You made a vow, and you must keep it."

"I will," she repeated. He placed a kiss on her forehead before he pulled something out of his pocket, and she looked down into his hands. "What is that?"

"My gift to you," he said, and taking her hand, he slipped a simple silver band onto the index finger of her right hand and placed a kiss on it. "I've worn it during battles, and I give it to you now to keep you safe." The ring shrunk down to fit her finger, and she stared at it, completely bewildered.

"Haldir, I cannot-"

"It is a gift, Elenmírë," he whispered.

"Amin harmuva onalle e' cormamin (I shall treasure your gift in my heart)," she choked, and he chuckled, leaning in.

"You had better," he muttered, caressing her face once more. "Elenmírë...I'm well aware that I promised otherwise, but forgive me if I want to-" He cut himself off as he placed his lips on hers, and she knew she should have pushed him away, but she could not deny how he made her feel, how he made her react, and instead of pulling free, her arms went around him and clutched him tightly against her. Bolts of electricity shocked her heart into spasms as he grinned against her lips and nipped playfully at her bottom lip. Their kiss deepened until Elenmírë finally pulled away, locking her eyes with his.

"I must go," she whispered, and on instinct, she added, "I promise I will come back to you."

"Elenmírë, you still have a journey ahead of you," he replied huskily, his eyes darkening with emotion. "We do not know what may happen. Please do not make a promise that may not be fulfilled." When she looked away, hurt and embarrassed, he lifted her chin with his hand. "I will, however, pray to the Valar that you do come back to me." He kissed her softly. "Go now, Elenmírë, before I cannot let you." She nodded, and with one last glance, she fled back down the path she had come, and Haldir slowly emerged from the shelter, watching her fade away.

_"You will see her sooner than you expect,"_ Galadriel's voice said, penetrating through his thoughts.

_"My Lady?"_

_"With her decision to see you one last time, a new path is now laid before her," _she continued, "_...and also before you_."

_"What do you see, my Lady?"_

_"There will be danger in store for the both of you, Haldir."_ Her voice faded away and left him with his troubled thoughts.

Elenmírë reached the boats just as the last of the hobbits carefully climbed into them, and Aragorn motioned for her to get into the last boat, and she groaned inwardly when she realized she was stuck with Mary Sue. Keeping her composure, she approached the boat where the girl impatiently gazed up at her.

"Did you find it?" she asked Elenmírë while handing her an oar.

"Find what?" Elenmírë asked blankly, looking over at the other boats, her eyes landing guilty on Legolas and then on Boromir. She looked back down on her hand where the ring shone brightly, happily hugging her finger. She was suddenly filled with a sense of calm and purpose, and she could only guess that it was Haldir's influence. She smiled slightly, savoring the feeling that had begun to creep over her, but she couldn't identify exactly what it was.

"Well, obviously that," muttered Mary Sue, whose eyes grew wide as she caught sight of the ring. "Did Legolas give that to you?" The pain in her voice was obvious, and Elenmírë shook her head, knowing that it had been her past choices that had given Mary Sue distress. She was going to right that wrong, she decided, adjusting the ring on her finger.

"No, there is nothing between Legolas and I," Elenmírë said softly, as she rowed the boat behind the three in front of her. "There is only friendship." She lowered her voice, knowing that it was time to admit what had been plaguing her. "There is something I must admit if we are to work together, Mary Sue." The girl perked up and looked back at her in interest.

"What is it?"

"You were right."

"What?"

"That night, when you said I was insensitive," Elenmírë said and sighed. "I've taken the time to reflect, especially after a discussion I had had with Galadriel...a-and, I admit, I really have not been fair, b-but now..." She rowed foward easily, and as they sailed by the edge of the forest, a solitary figure stood there, staring at her with one hand raised in farewell. Mary Sue followed her gaze and saw Haldir before she looked back at Elenmírë, and the She-Elf stared back at the other Elf in awe. "I've made my decision." Elenmírë tore her eyes away from him when he stepped out of sight.

"So, you mean to say, Legolas and you..?" Mary Sue let her voice trail off hopefully, and Elenmírë forced a smile on her face. _This is the only way to keep him from death_, she repeated over and over in her head.

"There will be nothing between us," she answered more confidently than she felt, "and if you truly want him, then I will help you." All Mary Sue could do was gawk in disbelief.

"R-really?" Elenmírë merely nodded in reply, else words would have streamed from her mouth to take back her offer, and she turned away from Mary Sue, concentrating hard on her rowing as the girl smiled in pure giddiness. She shot a quick glance at Legolas and Gimli's boat where Legolas was smiling at something that Gimli had said.

_I set you free, love_...

**

* * *

**TBC.**  
**


	21. Chapter Twenty: The Breaking of the Fell...

**Disclaimer:** In my absence, nothing has changed. Middle Earth and all its inhabitants still belong to Tolkien, and rightfully so. Previous disclaimers and author's notes still apply.

**The Imperfect One **  
By: Goddess-Isis-112

Chapter Twenty: The Breaking of the Fellowship

Legolas knew immediately that something had happened with Elenmírë the first time Aragorn had directed them to shore to rest. There was a cold, distant air about her, and he wondered whether he should keep to his promise and stay away from her, or whether he should run to her and ask her what was burdening her so. He couldn't, for the life of him, figure it out as the company carefully organized their camp, but, even in the fading light of day, a tiny shimmer of reflected light caught his Elvish eyes, and he looked down in shock at the tiny ring that enveloped Elenmírë's finger. She had never worn such jewelry before, and a spasm of pain immediately rushed to his heart as his mind jumped to the many conclusions of what could have surpassed in the very little time they had had before their departure in Lothlórien.

His mind flashed back to her unusual behavior when they had begun their packing of the boats before their leaving, and he had barely enough time to register her fleeting figure as she had fled back through the Golden Wood, leaving a gaping Mary Sue behind. He had awaited her return, watching her discreetly as she had run back to the river bank with her cheeks flushed, but there was a difference in her aura. The distress that had consumed her with Gandalf's fall was still there, but there was also an acceptance and a sense of peace. Her grey eyes were calm like the skies after a terrible storm, and she held her head high with more confidence in a manner much like…

"No," he said quietly to himself as he his eyes narrowed in her direction. _Haldir?_ he thought questioningly to himself. Elenmírë's relationship to Haldir was much more comfortable than Legolas would have liked, but…a ring! A ring could only symbolize one thing between two people, but surely Elenmírë couldn't have…she wouldn't have…_would she?_ The question repeated itself within the confines of his mind, and what scared him even more was that he hadn't a clue of what the answer would be.

A familiar anger arose in his chest, and he forced his eyes away from her, clenching his jaw shut. Images of Elenmírë's good-bye to Haldir at the gift giving resurfaced in his mind as did the jealousy and hurt he had felt then. _Is she even worth this pain? _he thought silently, as he sat by the small fire that the hobbits were building. His eyes were drawn to the flames as he thought of his relationship with the She-Elf, and although he had told her that hearing her declaration of love had been more than enough for him, he wasn't exactly quite sure anymore. Because of her, he had suffered more than he would have liked, and she had distracted his mind away from their mission more than enough times. He risked a glance in her direction as she approached the fire as well, and he snapped his gaze away instantly, gulping down the bitter taste of betrayal he was feeling. He told her that he would wait for her until she was ready, but the ring on her finger signified that she had been ready for someone to love for some time. Maybe, his breaking heart thought dismally, he wasn't the one meant for her after all. If their fates were truly intertwined, she wouldn't have been wearing the ring of another.

Restraining the fury that threatened to break free, Legolas regarded her coolly with his eyes, acknowledging her presence, and much to his dismay, she did exactly the same with an attitude slightly colder than he thought possible from her. His brows furrowed together as he looked away from her, focusing his gaze on the fire before them, his ears desperately grabbing onto the cheerful, though quiet, chatter of the hobbits. As much as he wanted a distraction at that moment, he couldn't keep his thoughts of Elenmírë away, and he stared in her direction once more. He knew just by looking at her that she was once again as emotionally distant from him as she had been when they had first met. He sighed inwardly, knowing that to draw her back to him would take another strong effort of patience on his part, and though his logical mind scoffed at the idea of putting up with her any longer, he could not keep his heart from taking the challenge. He loved her; he could never ever deny that fact, but was his love for her enough to keep them together? His dismal thoughts reflected in the blue of his eyes as he stared at the carefully composed She-Elf, and she flicked her eyes to quickly look at him before turning her attention to the fire.

"What is it?" she asked calmly, never taking her eyes away from the flickering flames. "Something troubles you."

"Your ring," he answered truthfully, hoping that maybe he could reach her through his honesty.

"It is Haldir's," she replied bluntly, and he winced at the detachment she held in her tone. "A present, he said. A good-luck charm, more like."

"Is that all it represents?" he asked, surprised at the bitterness that reeked in his voice, and Elenmírë tore her eyes away from the blaze to stare at him, confusion clearly written on her face.

"Of course," she said steadily, though with not much confidence. "If he had intended it to mean something of another nature, he would have told me."

"But would you have accepted it all the same?" Legolas fired at her, before guilt settled in the pit of his stomach at her hurt expression, and she stood abruptly.

"Please, do not make this harder than it should be," she said over her shoulder as she turned on her heel and walked away.

"Why is she saying all that?" he muttered to himself as he also remembered her cryptic words at the gift giving. _'There are some things you know nothing about,' _she had said to him then, and although he had retorted back in anger, he could not help the chill that had taken a hold of him at her words.

"Hey," a voice greeted him hesitantly, and he looked up to see Mary Sue standing there, and she motioned to the space next to him. "Is anyone sitting there?"

"No, but there are other seats available," he said brusquely, and after a moment of indecision, he stood up. "As a matter of fact, you can take my seat." As she sputtered for words, Legolas left her standing alone, and just as she moved to follow him, the hobbits, satisfied with the fire that they had built, grabbed a hold of her and started a friendly conversation, and with a forced smile, she reluctantly joined them. Legolas let out a sigh of relief, and he moved toward the shore, where Aragorn and Boromir stood, but he paused slightly before he reached the two men. They were in an argument of sorts, and silently, another person drew up next to the Elf as they watched them exchange heated words.

"Something is amiss with that Boromir," Gimli muttered. "Ever since Lothlórien, he had been acting quite strange." Legolas did nothing but nod, choosing not to comment. Together they watched the two men before Aragorn stormed away from Boromir, who had then sat abruptly at the spot in which he was standing, breathing deeply as if to calm himself.

Several more days and nights passed, and the group of ten continued down the Great River, and though no more words were exchanged between Legolas and Elenmírë, the silence between the two only increased the tension within the Company.

After the fight between the two men, Aragorn and Boromir hardly spoke to one another unless it was absolutely dire for them to do so. The strain was taking its toll the most on the hobbits, especially Frodo, who now seemed more troubled than ever, but everyone within the Fellowship felt the heavy weight of the growing anxiety. Deep within their hearts, each member knew that they would not last together for very long. It was inevitable, they all knew, that _something_ was going to break their Fellowship, and that thought placed a heavy burden on their shoulders as they awaited for that dreadfully fated day.

"Who is keeping watch?" Legolas questioned one night when they had taken to shore after a long day's work of rowing.

"The Elven lass," the dwarf answered, amused at the affect his words had on the Elf. "It's quite lonely, isn't it? Keeping watch by one's self?"

"She should be used to it by now, the way she pushes everyone away," Legolas returned, anger dribbling from his words, surprising even himself at how livid he sounded. Gimli, merely grunted, not wanting to infuriate the Elf further. "Forgive me," Legolas muttered moments later. "I am not in the best disposition."

"It's more than obvious that the group harmony is out of balance," Gimli commented, shaking his head before turning to go to the fire where most of the Fellowship had gathered. He paused and looked back at Legolas. "And lad, talk to her. No good can come from hiding your emotions." With that, the Dwarf joined the company at the fire, and sighing, Legolas silently debated over the Dwarf's words before coming to a conclusion, and without another moment's hesitation, he followed a path of footsteps just along the riverbank before it cut sharply toward an incline covered with green growth. He walked easily up the incline to find a small group of boulders, perfect for sitting and keeping watch over the Fellowship and the surrounding areas.

There sat Elenmírë, gazing over the rest of the company, and she let out an audible sigh, as if she desired nothing more than to be with the group instead being alone watching over them. She turned her head snappishly, immediately spotting Legolas standing behind her.

"I meant not to sneak up on you," he said before she could speak. "It is a goal of mine to break bad habits." A corner of her mouth lifted, spreading a small grin on her lips, and Legolas walked toward her, sitting himself down beside her.

"I saw you heading this way," she informed him matter-of-factly. "Not much escapes my vision from here, so your coming technically did not surprise me in the least."

"Ah."

A silence fell over them, and they both observed the scene below where Sam and Pippin were in the middle of telling a story, one which held the rest of their companions engrossed, save for one person. Boromir still sat away from the others, keeping his gaze on the river, and Elenmírë frowned at him, sadness etching the lines on her face.

"You miss him, do you not?" Legolas supplied, reading the emotions in her eyes. She stiffened, automatically straightening her back, and she bent her legs, as if to leave, but Legolas, much quicker than she, grabbed a hold of her arm, freezing her motion. "Talk to me, Elenmírë."

"There is nothing to discuss between us," she retorted, though she settled back down on the ground, her head bowed.

"There needs to be clarification," Legolas began, looking at her expectantly, but she merely stared at him in confusion.

"Then speak, if you must."

"I had rather hoped _you_ would clarify _your_ position in this…relationship, if you will." Legolas immediately detected the tension in her body as she gazed at him wearily.

"What is there to explain to you, Legolas?" Elenmírë questioned quietly, returning her gaze to Boromir. "I have already told you of how I felt, and I had thought you would let the matter rest. "

"Your actions have given me reason to doubt your earlier declaration," he stated, gesturing to her ring. "You said you loved me. You also said that you could not be with anyone, especially when you were torn between Boromir and I, and yet, there is physical evidence wrapped around your finger that indicates otherwise. Honestly, what do you want with me, Elenmírë?" The anger that he had felt toward her did not arise somehow, now that he was speaking to her in a civil manner. He took in her haggard appearance, her weary expression, and his heart softened. His love shone brightly in the depths of his eyes, and even in the darkness of the fading twilight, Elenmírë could feel her heart hammering in her chest the way it always did when Legolas was near. Forcing herself away from him was one of the hardest things she had ever had to do, but being so close to him now nearly broke her resolve, and she was slipping away from the façade she had kept up since they had departed from the shores of Lothlórien. He was so close, only mere inches away, and all she had to do was close the gap between them and fall into his arms. All she had to do was apologize to him for hurting him the way she obviously had from the moment they had met, and all she had to do was give into the fact that she missed him. All she had to do was believe that perhaps, the love between them was stronger than she thought possible, and maybe the love that she was so scared of could actually survive the evil they were going to face. All she had to do was believe…

Then, flashes of her vision in Galadriel's Mirror erupted into her thoughts, and she recoiled from him, shaken at her remembrance of his mangled body lying on top of her dead corpse.

_No,_ she thought to herself. _No, being together will only invite death._

"Legolas, I-I…I…I-I cannot say w-what…w-why," she stuttered, successfully confusing him even more.

"What?" His oceanic blue eyes clouded with worry, and placed both hands on her shoulders to placate her, but she jerked out of his reach, as if his touch burned her.

"Being with me will only cause you more pain," she finally blurted out, and he started at her words. "I do not want to put you through more pain than you are feeling now, and being with me will only do so."

"Why are you speaking so enigmatically?" Legolas demanded, but before he could get more out of her, her emotions were once again hidden deep within her, and he knew that once she had reached this point, it was nearly impossible for him to get more from her. Her face had faded into a protective mask, and she coolly straightened her shoulders as she flicked her messy braid over her shoulder.

"I am on duty here, Legolas," she stated, moving back into the original position he had found her in. She faced away from him, gazing over the Fellowship.

"But-"

"Please." With that, she fell silent, and frustrated, Legolas stormed away, his pent up aggravation threatening once again to break free, but a mysterious presence chilled away any emotion save that of fear, and he immediately stared up into the sky, as if expecting something to hover above, but nothing except the twinkling of the stars greeted his tired eyes. He scanned the skies, but no matter how hard he searched, all seemed normal. However, the Elf could not shake the feeling away, and he looked back at Elenmírë, only to see her gazing up into the heavens as well. Their eyes met, and even with the distance between them, both knew that they had to put aside their quarrels. Danger was approaching them at a rapid pace, and they felt it within the very cores of their spirits. They had to be ready.

Legolas rushed down to where the others were, still peering into the sky as if trying to coax the heavens to reveal the presence he was itching to destroy. Aragorn immediately noticed Legolas's odd behavior, and he turned his gaze upwards.

"Legolas, what is it?" Aragorn called out to him in a hushed tone. "Is something amiss?"

"Something lingers in the air," Legolas said, motioning for Gimli to gather the hobbits into the safety of the shadows. "There is evil. Can you sense it?"

Aragorn nodded, his gaze never swaying from his upward observation, and as if on cue, a large dark body flew from the South and blocked the starlight from those watching below, its large wings flapping noiselessly in the air. From somewhere across the water, snarls and growls greeted the dark creature, and chills ran throughout the entire Company as the blackness descended upon them. Frodo gasped when the wound on his shoulder burned as if the creature's presence had reopened the gash, and Sam's worried eyes flashed in his direction as his Master's shaky hand grasped his cloak to endure the pain.

Elenmírë raised an unsteady arm as she took aim with her bow, and her breathing was shallow as she tried futilely to release the arrow she had ready, but without the comfort of light, she felt her fear take over her. Just as she brought her hand down to calm herself, the great bow of Lórien sang through the night as Legolas fearlessly shot the winged beast, and a shrill groan escaped its terrible mouth as it fell out of the air, vanishing down into the gloom of the eastern shore. As quickly as it had come, it was gone, and the moon and stars twinkled brightly down at them, greeting them with their light. The loud voices that had welcomed the creature were now silenced, but for the rest of the night, the Fellowship was unable to relax enough to let their guard down.

A few hours later, after Gimli had traded places with him to keep watch, Legolas made his way back down to the camp to find them all sleeping, save one person. Elenmírë sat quietly, though her shoulders were heaving, as if she were silently sobbing to herself. Making no noise whatsoever, Legolas crept toward her and could make out her cursing to herself as she whimpered, her shadow dancing with her movements.

"You are a coward, Elenmírë!" she hissed to herself in a small voice, that no one (save Elves) would be able to hear. The fire cackled in response, and a slight breeze blew against her face, as if to console her. "The company was in danger, and yet, like a coward, you could not do anything, and you call yourself a warrior!" She stifled a cough as she wiped her tears away. "Once again, all you can do is cry! You're nothing but a shameless, useless coward! What good are you to the Fellowship if you cannot even protect them! Boromir was right in leaving you! You don't deserve him, or Legolas, or Haldir, or anyone!" Legolas gulped down the lump that had formed in his throat as he listened to her, and although he was still angry with her, hearing her piteous wallowing enraged him even more.

_Is this why she keeps herself from me? _he questioned himself as she continued on her self-degradation. _She still thinks that she is not worthy of my affections?_

"But," she whispered in a strangely calm tone that grabbed his attention, "it is right that I do not deserve them, especially Legolas. I will only cause his death-" Legolas bit hard on his lip to prevent the surprise from escaping through his mouth, "-as I had seen in the Mirror. He will die if I get too close." A new onslaught of tears rolled down her cheeks as she winced in pain and closed her eyes, and Legolas realized with a start that Galadriel had shown her a glimpse of their future together, or rather, lack thereof.

_Curse it all!_ he thought angrily. _If I die, so be it, but do not bear this pain alone, Elenmírë! I will not allow it!_

"So that was your purpose in keeping away from me," he stated, as he stepped towards her, and she stiffened immediately, rose to her feet, and spun around to gape at him.

"How much did you hear-"

"Enough to know why-"

"Do not come closer, I beg of you," she pleaded, backing away from him as she dried her tears with the sleeve of her tunic. "My words were not meant for you to hear-"

"Nevertheless, I heard them," he said evenly, though his eyes were ablaze with anger. "If my death is inevitable, then so be it, but stop this nonsense right now!" Though his voice was barely above that of a whisper, she flinched as if he had been bellowing at the top of his lungs.

"I do not want you to die. Do you not understand that?"

"And yet, you kill a bit of me each day by acting the way you do, do _you_ not understand _that!" _he shot back, knowing that his sharp words sliced deeply into her, but she needed to hear them just as much as he needed to say them. "I have not had the privilege, or curse if you see it that way, of viewing into Galadriel's Mirror, but if my life's end is near, then I would rather share my remaining time with you-"

"But you will surely die-"

"Then let me die!" he muttered fervently. "My fate is my fate! If I am to walk my last upon this land within the next season, then it is my choice to do what I wish! You cannot chose for me." He was breathing heavily as he sped to her side, engulfing her in his arms, and at first, she fought him, but he wouldn't relent his hold on her. With one final, futile attempt, she collapsed against him, sobbing into his tunic. "You do not have to be strong at all times," he whispered into her ear as his hands traced comforting circles on her back. His anger slowly subsided, the sensation of having her in his arms once again weakening him.

"Why…?" she croaked at him in between her cries. "No matter how horrible my attitude is toward you, no matter how weak I am, why do you not leave me…?"

"I do not know," he replied truthfully, furrowing his brow as he searched for an answer. "I am just as stubborn as you, I suppose."

"But…Haldir," she sniffed pathetically. "I-I…"

"You love him, then…?" Legolas braced himself for the worst as he awaited the words that would surely cause him more grief.

"I know not." She sighed heavily. "Confusion seems to be my best friend as of late." There was a barest hint of wistfulness in her tone as her thoughts flew to the Elf she had left behind in Lothlórien, and it was not lost upon Legolas. Even her body language spoke volumes as her shoulders relaxed at the thought of Haldir, and Legolas suppressed the need to growl in frustration.

"The answer is obvious enough," he stated evenly, unwrapping his arms from her, and was disappointed to see the strength regaining in her composure, but he forced a tiny smile onto his face. "He means much to you if even the smallest thought of him can calm you in ways I cannot."

"I suppose you are right," she said softly, and Legolas kept his expression blank, though his hand itched to slap her for toying with him, even if she did not know she did so.

"Then I bid you good-night." He fled away from her, despite her cry of protest, and he hid within the dark shadows of the trees as she mechanically sat back down in front of the dying embers. Both Elves cried silent tears of regret, knowing that what had surpassed felt very much like a good-bye.

_So much for reestablishing the group harmony,_ Legolas thought bitterly to himself as the Fellowship continued to row down the Great River the next day. His last encounter with Elenmírë not only made him rather uncomfortable, he was also the subject of minor scrutiny when Mary Sue lovingly pointed out to the rest of the company that he was paler than was normal for him, and the worried glances shot his way succeeded in bothering him even more. The threatening growls on the Eastern side of the river also did nothing to calm his nerves. Gimli, the only one who seemed to sense the Elf's anxiety, commented on nothing else save the enemies that littered the East, and for that, Legolas was grateful.

As they rowed toward a bend in the river, the sound of crashing water grew louder that even the Hobbits strained their necks to stare ahead, wondering where exactly the sound was coming from. As they rounded the bend a few minutes later, all ten pairs of eyes widened at the sight before them.

Two massive stone figures guarded each side of the river, staring almost menacingly at those who dared to enter their land. They each held up a huge, majestic hand, as their robes fell around them in intimidating cascades of stone. Elenmírë's mouth dropped slightly in amazement, taken aback at how small and insignificant she suddenly felt under their shadows.

"The Argonath," Aragorn whispered in awe from his boat, though her Elven ears caught them. "The kings of old…my kin." Elenmírë started at the information as the imposing statues kept her attention, and Mary Sue had to tug on her sleeve to keep the She-Elf from losing her focus on rowing their boat. Her cheeks flushing, Elenmírë realized that they had fallen behind the group because of her gawking, and she quickly set her mind to the task at hand, though, with a pang of regret, wished that she had been able to observe such an amazing sight when not on dire mission.

It was not until they were quite a distance away from the Argonath that Aragorn led them to shore, and it was only then did Elenmírë realize how far they had actually traveled when her eyes focused on the heavy mist that floated just over the other end of the river.

"Where's that lead to?" Mary Sue asked her, staring in the same general direction.

"Do you hear the sound?" the She-Elf questioned, tilting her head in challenge. "It is that of a huge waterfall. We have reached the Falls of Rauros-"

"How far is that from Rivendell?" She was eager for information, reminding Elenmírë of herself when she had been much younger. Growing up, she had pestered Elrond every day with questions about birds, trees and the creation of Arda, of the Valar and the distant lands that she never thought she would have been able to see. She gave Mary Sue a small smile, wondering how such a trivial question could bring back so many fond memories of her foster father.

"I do not know the exact distance, but we are many leagues away," Elenmírë answered, her eyes growing dim at the realization. "I have never been so far from home before-"

"It is a little scary, isn't it?" Mary Sue cut in with understanding shimmering in her violet eyes. "At least, it's easier for you, knowing that you and those you love are still under the same sky. As for me, I'm…I'm not even from this world. I don't even know how I'll be able to go back to…to my home. It's a scary thought." Elenmírë froze, not exactly knowing how to respond to her. It was the most either of them had ever revealed to one another as if they were _friends_, and for a moment, an awkwardness settled between them.

"We are more alike than I had cared to realize," Elenmírë found herself saying, "especially since we are not trying so hard to compete with each other over…a certain someone."

"You're right," Mary Sue agreed with a little laugh. "You're absolutely right. I guess when we have nothing to fight over, we can get along just fine…?"

"Mm." It was an odd feeling for Elenmírë, sharing her thoughts with someone she had once envied more than anyone, even more than the Evenstar. How was it possible that they got so close when they both did everything in their power to hurt one another?

"Hey, look, I'm really sorry," Mary Sue said suddenly. "You know, about what I said to you when we first met. It…it was cruel of me to judge you as quickly as I did-"

"I was just as guilty as you were," Elenmírë interrupted, not wondering why she was admitting to it now. It was disconcerting how off-guard she felt around this little girl she had thought she was so different from, only to discover that they were in essence, almost exactly the same. However, the only two females of the group had no time to ponder over their odd friendship when they heard the question that set all of them in a state of frenzy.

"Where's Frodo?" Merry, his arms full of firewood he had collected, stood by the fire that Gimli and Pippin had started. He looked at one shocked face to another, realizing that no one knew how to answer him. Elenmírë's eyes immediately saw the empty spot in which Boromir had occupied only moments before. A sinking premonition settled unpleasantly in the pit of her stomach as she looked over at Aragorn, his expression showing that he suspected exactly the same thing she did. With Boromir acting the way he had been over the past couple of weeks, it was a sure sign that Frodo would not be safe in his presence.

"Damn it!" Elenmírë yelped before she fled into the woods, paying no heed to the others as she quickly scanned the area, trying to take note of any broken branches or footprints left in the dirt. Panic shook her limbs as she thought of what Boromir was capable of; he was an excellent swordsman, and Frodo was no warrior. "We have let our guard down," she whispered to herself angrily, and she took no note of the cuts on her hands and face as she jumped through a thicket of sharp branches blocking her way. Her mind began to fill with doubt again as she frantically meandered throughout the woods with no clear path of where to go, or any clue as to what to do. She swallowed back the lump that had formed in her throat, helplessness weakening her yet again.

She paused in her search, panting heavily as she forced herself to calm down. "You will not be able to fight should you get flustered again!" she scolded herself. "Breathe, damn you, breathe!" She closed her eyes, forcing herself to focus her energy into what was important: protecting Frodo at all costs. She had not the time to stumble in her mind's endless debate of her own self-worth, especially when Frodo needed her.

Her eyes opened immediately when she heard a shout not too far from where she stood, and her legs sprung into action on their own accord, her instincts going into full swing.

"I am coming, Frodo!" she muttered in steely determination as the cries grew louder, clearer, and she nearly tripped on a moving log on the ground when she realized that the rolling object was Boromir.

"Frodo, I'm sorry!" the man was yelling insanely, his hands thrashing at the scattered leaves below him. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" Elenmírë stared at him blankly, disbelief stilling her movements. Frodo was not near as far as she could tell, and the sight of the broken man before her disturbed her more than she showed.

"Boromir…?" she whispered uncertainly and hesitated a moment before kneeling down next to him.

"Where is he!" he demanded tearfully. "Where did he go!"

"He is not here," she answered him, her hand discreetly moving to the hilt of her sword, but her precaution was not needed as he broke down once more into a sobbing fit. Not knowing what to do, she stayed as she was, contemplating whether to leave him in such a state and search for Frodo or to comfort the man she had once given her heart to.

"Elenmírë, I'm sorry!" he mumbled almost incoherently as he flung himself at her, his arms wrapping around her waist as his head landed unceremoniously on her lap. "I did not mean it, I did not mean to do what I did!" Her eyes grew larger as she gaped at him. He only wept, his tears dropping down his cheeks in a steady pace, wetting her leggings. Out of old habit, her hand ran through his hair to comfort him the way she used to when they had been together, and she was surprised at how silky the strands still felt.

"Shh," she pacified, as he tightened his hold on her, only sobbing harder.

"You do not understand," he cried. "I tried to take it from him, I tried to take the Ring from Frodo!" She refrained herself from gasping, though she should have known that with his odd behavior, she should not have been so surprised.

"You have not been yourself, Boromir," she comforted, her heart shattering at his breakdown and confession. It were not the images of the cold Boromir she had hurt in Lothlorien but of the kind Boromir she had fallen in love with in Rivendell that she remembered as she cradled his head in her lap as if it were the most precious of pearls. "You are not to be blamed-"

The unmistakable clanging of swords brought the two of them on alert as they broke free from one another, springing to their feet with the swords in their hands. The wave of black Orcs were already upon them, and Elenmírë hardly had enough time to marvel at their speed when one came close and swung at her head with a cleaver. She immediately ducked beneath its swing, and her sword went swiftly through its chest before it fell down on the grassy floor, creating a bloody dark pool of mud beneath its dying body.

However, not many of the other orcs seemed to care about her or Boromir for that matter; most seemed to be running away, as if in search of something far more important than them.

"Find the Hobbits!" one of them ordered in an angry growl. "FIND THE HOBBITS!" Boromir was at her side immediately, grabbing her arm to pull her along.

"We have to find them before they do," he barked at her, and she pulled her arm free from his grasp just in time to bring her sword up as an orc charged at her, running directly into the tip of her sword. She stared into its ugly, distorted face as its life sputtered away on her blade, and she recoiled, taking notice for the first time of its body, which was far more enormous than that of a regular orc.

"Wha-what are they!" she yelled over the noise as they continued to flee in the same direction as the wave of black bodies.

"I overheard Aragorn talking to Celeborn in Lothlórien," Boromir explained over his shoulder. "They are Uruk-hai, a cross between goblins and orcs-" His voice cut off as he was squarely punched in his back. He stabbed two more Uruks as Elenmírë came under attack, but she swirled around swiftly, leaving five dead in her wake.

"There they are!" Boromir cried out. "Merry and Pip-" He let out a strangled cry as he rushed over a make-shift bridge of a fallen tree where the two Hobbits stood frozen in fear as an Uruk came charging at them. As its weapon began its descent upon their heads, Boromir grabbed the hilt in time, knocking the Uruk out of the way as he ushered Merry and Pippin close to him before he brought his Horn to his lips and blew.

The loud tune startled Elenmírë, and she nearly stumbled as she ran to catch up with the man and two Hobbits, having forgotten that he had carried the heirloom with him wherever he traveled. He had told her once that it would always bring help whenever he needed it, and she only prayed that the tale would ring true as the four of them fought to keep the Hobbits from out of their enemies' reach.

Not too far off, Legolas heard the plaintive cry of the horn, and immediately stopped in his tracks, turning to the sound. "The Horn of Gondor!" he yelped, only to have Aragorn rush past him.

"Boromir!" he barely had time to mutter as he encountered another attack.

"There's too many of them!" Mary Sue cried out, wielding her own sword with expertise.

"They're not all attacking, lass," Gimli grunted. "Hurry and follow the sound of the Horn!"

"Boromir is in dire need of help," Legolas hissed, shooting arrows in every which direction, "though, he is not alone-"

"What do you mean!" Mary Sue sputtered, driving her sword into a mangled face, its black blood spurting out all over her. She barely had time to express her disgust when another Uruk cut into her right leg, and grimacing in pain, she hacked off his head in one swoop of her blade.

"Elenmírë is with him, I know it," Legolas said, running toward the sound of the blowing horn, Mary Sue and Gimli just behind him. Aragorn was the only one out of the four who advanced the farthest and the fastest, and Legolas fleetingly hoped that the heir could only reach Boromir and Elenmírë in time.

"Run!" Boromir snapped at Merry and Pippin, but they paid no heed as they stayed, attacking any that dared to sneak up on their friends from behind. They held their daggers bravely, using their quickness to their advantage as they stabbed the Uruks from below.

Elenmírë felt a shove on her shoulder, and she shot Boromir and irritated glare. "There's no time to argue!" he scowled. "Take the Hobbits and flee, now!"

"But-" she tried to protest.

"No time, just go!" he yelled fiercely. "It is your duty, Elenmírë! Let me divert their attention away-"

"They will just hunt us down and annihilate us later!" she countered. "We will fight together as one! I will not leave you behind-" For a moment, she saw a tiny spark of appreciation within the fire of his eyes, and he nodded, a small smile on his lips, painfully reminding her of the peaceful moments they stole together in the quiet of Rivendell. She hungrily drank in the expression on his face, not having seen such a reminder of his former self in what seemed like ages. His free hand caught hers, and he gave a gentle squeeze before he returned to the task at hand. She let her hand fall to her side, but she was unable to tear her gaze from him, wondering why it was only then her Boromir had come back-

She fell to her knees as something slammed into her right shoulder, throwing her to the ground in a heap, her head landing hard on a slant of rock as she slipped. Blood trickled from the gash, but she could only blink skeptically at the black arrow embedded in her body. However, when she tried to raise her right arm, an electric bolt of pain made her gasp, and she twitched as she tried to get up. Boromir blinked blankly at the wound before angrily spinning around to glare at the offender who had injured her. He only had enough time to react and place his body between Elenmírë and the next arrow that came flying in her direction.

"No!" she screamed as he fell to her side, and she noted, though her head was spinning madly, that the arrow he had taken for her was buried just above where his heart was. "Boromir, no…"

By some miracle, he was on his feet, as if he hadn't been hit at all, fighting to protect both the Hobbits as well as Elenmírë, who lay writhing in pain just behind him. Merry and Pippin, their faces crumbling, tried to rush to her, but as another Orc approached from behind, they returned to their fighting with more zeal as Elenmírë could do nothing but watch.

"I must do something," she growled through gritted teeth. "I must-"

A thud snapped her out of her monologue as Boromir fell a second time, almost collapsing on top of her, and she exhaled sharply as the breath was knocked out of her. Her lids wanted to close, but she forced them open, squinting as she made out another arrow in the middle of Boromir's chest. He panted, his breathing growing laborious, but he rose to his feet once again, taking four more enemies down before another shot embedded an arrow in his stomach.

"No!" Elenmírë whimpered weakly, her eyes filling with tears as he stayed kneeling in front of her fallen body. Refusing to let him fight alone, she drew herself up, but to her utmost horror, Merry and Pippin were suddenly carried away from behind her, and she crawled on her side, reaching out her left arm to trip those who had grabbed her friends, but it was no use. Her eyes locked with Merry's tearful ones as he struggled against the strong arms that held him, and Elenmírë sobbed, shaking her head. Using whatever energy she had left, she picked herself up on shaky legs to chase after them when another stinging pain engulfed her left thigh, and she fell again to the floor, landing hard on her injured shoulder. Her head rolled to the side, as Boromir collapsed beside her. The Uruk archer merely sneered at the two of them before he ran to follow his group, a sickeningly satisfied smile on his crooked lips.

"Boromir…" Her eyes were not deceiving her. Though the arrows were still protruding from within his torso, blood spots were forming where they had hit, and his face had already grown ashen, his lips pale. She sniffed nosily as he turned his gaze to her, and though the former couple inched closer to one another, one slipped toward death.

Boromir coughed and sputtered, his punctured lungs now filling with liquid and blood, but even in his intense pain, he twitched his lips into a smile as if to reassure her, though the smile did not reach his eyes.

"It is over." His whisper could barely be heard, and she shook her head even more fervently at him, though she grimaced in agony that the movement caused her. She could barely see his face clearly through her blurry tears, but she could feel his gloved hand on her cheek, clutching to her as his glassy eyes tried to memorize the details of her face.

"No!" she hissed at him angrily. "We will not say good-bye here-"

"I loved you still," he rasped, as though she had not spoken. "Despite my words in the Golden Wood, I still loved you-"

"Stop it, please, Boromir," she pleaded. "Not like this, please do not-"

"…It is done-"

"Boromir!"

"Elenmírë!"

The chorus of voices seemed so far away,She could not lift her head, but her entire body was on fire as arms gently wrapped around her and a pair of deep blue eyes flooded her line of vision. She turned away deliriously as she looked for Boromir, only to see Aragorn over him, speaking in soft tones.

"No, Boromir…"

"Elenmírë," Legolas whispered to her, "we must clean your wounds. Thank the Valar they are not as deep-"

"But Boromir…"

"Lie still," he instructed softly, his eyes filling with worry when she would not pay any heed to his words. He followed her gaze in time to see Aragorn place his hand over Boromir's eyes, closing them for one final time.

"No," Elenmírë's voice was hoarse. "No…no…no! NO!" Her attempts to pull away were easily countered, and she pummeled weakly at Legolas's chest when he refused to let her go. Her shoulders shook as an anguished cry tore from her lungs, and she fought against Legolas with renewed vigor.

"He has passed," Legolas confirmed quietly as her tears began their quick flood down her cheeks, his hold on her still firm.

"He attempted to say…good-bye," she choked. "I-I could not…No! NO! He…my life…he protected…I-I c-could n-not say-" A massive wave of guilt drowned her even deeper into her sorrow as she babbled inarticulately, but through the fragmented phrases, Legolas deduced that Boromir had in fact given his life for Merry and Pippin…and for Elenmírë. His vision blurred as he stared at Boromir's corpse, finally able to appreciate his comrade's bravery and loyalty. Any thought of his weakness against the One Ring was burned away from memory as Elenmírë drooped in his arms, falling unconscious from her emotional turmoil and loss of blood.

"We must tend to her quickly," Aragorn stated evenly, approaching the two Elves, "and Boromir…" His voice trailed off as he cleared his throat.

"We cannot leave him like carrion among these foul Orcs," Legolas continued, knowing what Aragorn had wanted to say.

"But we must be swift!" Gimli cut in, trudging slowly to the group before leaning against his ax. "He would not wish us to linger."

"What happened?" Mary Sue called out to them as she slowly jogged to the group, her eyes growing wide as she studied the scene before her. She was a little scathed, but was perfectly well overall. As her gaze landed on the fallen Boromir and injured Elenmírë, she let out a small gasp. "Boromir…?"

"He is dead," Aragorn informed solemnly, turning away, and Mary Sue fought to control herself, but as she glanced down at Elenmírë, her resolve faded.

"Is she…?"

"Not yet," Legolas stated determinedly. "She will live." Mary Sue nodded, though she looked doubtful as she kneeled next to him, brushing away Elenmírë's bloodied hair from her face.

"And what of the Hobbits?" Gimli gripped his ax anxiously. "Where is Frodo?"

"I do not know," Aragorn answered wearily, "but we must hurry. We must make haste and follow, should there be survivors of our Fellowship within their grasp. We have not the time to make a mound for Boromir, but we must give him a proper ceremony." He sighed heavily, his eighty or so years showing a little on his tired face, but as his determination flooded through his veins, he straightened, the leader buried within him beginning to emerge. "Let us lay him in a boat with his weapons, and the weapons of his vanquished foes," he decided. "We shall send him to the Falls of Rauros and give him to Anduin. The River of Gondor will take care at least that no evil creature dishonors his bones."

* * *

Elenmírë stood stoically on the shore, her eyes trained on the boat that carried her first love over to the Falls of Rauros. She no longer had tears left as she watched the boat bobble gently along its path, but her heart skipped a few beats as the boat finally tipped over the edge, taking Boromir with it. A lump formed in her throat as the five of them bowed their heads reverently, and seconds later Legolas and Aragorn began a slow melody, singing of the North, South and West winds paying tribute to their fallen brother. 

She refused to cry any longer, bringing her hand to cup her injured shoulder, and though it stung, the pain was a bitter reminder that she was still alive because of Boromir. It would not do to mourn forever when they still had a mission to accomplish, a mission that Boromir had died for. He would not have wanted her to cry more tears than she had already; he would not have wanted her to waste the life he had fought bravely to protect.

"I will honor your gift and live, love," she whispered, hoping that the kind winds would carry her words to where he was now, praying that he could hear her. "I vow to you, I will bring our friends back. I promise." Though she had sworn not to cry, a single teardrop found its way unto her cheek, and she allowed it to continue its path down the curve of her face.

"We cannot tarry," Aragorn commented, drawing her out of her thoughts. "We will not abandon Merry and Pippin to torment to death." His eyes gleamed, and the two Elves, Dwarf and girl nodded in agreement, smiles of hope etched onto their faces. "Let us away!" He fled into the wood, and they took after him.

Though her injured thigh protested at the sudden exertion, Elenmírë bore the ache, each painful step reminding her of what her true purpose was. She was still alive, and with his death, Boromir taught her the importance of her own existence. He fought and died for them all, and she was not about to let his sacrifice go to waste.

She continued to run.

* * *

TBC...  
_01/19/06_ - (and yes, this story will be continued!)  



End file.
